The White Knight
by Seel'vor
Summary: ON HIATUS WHILE I REWRITE IT. The Second War ended when Voldemort was killed in 1998, right? Er... no. There are still battles to be fought, old enemies to kill, and a destiny to claim. Will be H/Hr, but only at the very end.
1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

**Disclaimer:**

Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, Warner Bros Motion Pictures, Bloomsbury Books, and whoever else owns a piece of it.

The EbonBlade is based on the Ebony Blade, written by Stan Lee for "The Black Knight", released by Atlas Comics, before it became Marvel.

The ShadowBlade is based on 'Shadowfang' from the computer game "Diablo II", released and owned by Blizzard Entertainment.

This entire story was inspired by five words: "White knight takes black bishop." from RoboCop: Prime Directives. (Part one. It's worth a watch, if you can excuse the fact that Paige Fletcher, who plays RoboCop is _**far**_ too short. He's 5"9', for god's sake!)

This story follows canon, up to an including _Half Blood Prince _except for a few small points:

· Harry never asked Cho Chang to the Yule Ball in fourth year, and never 'noticed' her.

· Cho did try to kiss Harry during fifth year, but he ran away screaming from the Room of Requirement

· Harry/Ginny never happened (and it shouldn't have, either)

· Dumbledore did not die at the end of 6th year. Malfoy and Snape did attempt to kill him, but fled before the AK was thrown.

· Harry and Dumbledore spent most of seventh year investigating and destroying Voldemort's remaining four Horcruxes.

Final Note: A lot of the characters in this story are referred to by chess piece names. I refuse to call a Rook a 'Castle'. For the Americans amongst us, every time you see the word 'Rook', it means castle.


	2. Prologue

– **PROLOGUE –**

**Saturday, 21st June, 2003**

I've been up here for a while, now. It's... 12:03pm. In just a few minutes, the esteemed Minister of Magic will be making a public appearance, smiling for the masses, while he tries to pretend that he's good for the country.

I can see people down there who used to be critical to the war effort. They've become soft, now. What used to be sharp and lethal weapons have become blunt, pitted and rusty since they were needed.

They think it's all over. It's not, though. I know better.

I watch the fools below. I've been doing this for almost five years now. I watch from the sidelines, keeping to the shadows. Watch them as the fumble their way through life. So far, all that I've seen, and believe me, I've seen plenty, only seems to emphasis the opinion I made a decade ago: They're all sheep. Sheeple. Bleating loudly as they follow the loudest voice. Usually that of the foolish Ministry of Magic, and it's mouthpiece, the _Daily Prophet_.

I'm proud to say that I'm not a sheep. Never was. I never learned how to bleat in time with everyone else. I follow my own standards. My own morals. My own code. That code is the reason I have become what I am now. That's my crime. In my own way, I'm as bad as Voldemort and his Death Eaters. I make my own decisions, not giving a long stale fart what society thinks. I've yet to make a promise that I haven't kept. The Ministry, if they knew about me, would shit breezeblocks. They wouldn't be able to control me, but I don't care. It was necessary, you see. No one else seemed willing to step up to the fight, so I did.

That's the problem with the Wizarding world. They won't fight for themselves. That's why they pinned all their hopes on Harry Potter, the vaunted 'Boy-Who-Lived'. He was a nice guy. I knew him. Entirely too trusting, though. One of his few redeeming features was that if you broke his trust, you had shit hope of getting it back. People say I'm cynical. I agree with them.

When the Final Battle was over five years ago, he left. Most people said that he'd run away. Personally, I think he was fed up with the Wizarding world. Don't blame him, really. I know I am.

The ragged remains of the man next to me stir quietly in the warm summer afternoon. I don't really care about his pain. Not surprising, really, since I'm the one who caused it. Wasn't that difficult, either. Fucking pussy. I'd be happy if he was dead and cold, but since I don't particularly fancy a murder rap at the moment, I've given him the gift of still breathing.

Anyway... where was I? Oh, yeah. Harry. Most people still don't know what happened to him. He died. Quietly and alone, he passed away. It wasn't some heroic death in battle, it was peaceful. Pathetic, really. I want to go out in a fight, my sword and wand in hand, killing evil bastards. Not the way to die most people would choose, but then again, most people are sheep. So, sod 'em. A lot of the sheep think Harry's still out there, biding his time. Half the world thinks he's become Dark, and is just waiting to step up to take Voldemort's role. I think Dumbledore's leading the lookout for Harry. It was his negligence that created Voldemort in the first place. If he'd given ol' Tommy-boy a spanking every now and then, Voldemort would never have been born. At least he learned from that mistake, and it looks like he's poised and ready to stop Harry.

The people below are engaged in celebrations. It's five years today. VoV-Day. I'm ashamed that they call it that. The 'Victory over Voldemort' celebrations. Of course, they still don't call him Voldemort. All that bollocks about 'You-Know-Who' and 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'. Wankers. Then again, calling it VoV-Day sounds better than VoYKW-Day. That'd be hard to say. Or even worse, VoHWMNBN-Day. It's pathetic.

I fought in the Second War. Towards the end, just before the Final Battle, actually. I was hurt badly. Took me years to heal, and I'm still not fully healed. I'm well enough to fight, though. In fact, the fight is all I have left. Like the fifteen I hunt, I'm a relic of the Second War.

Oh, look. Here comes the Minister of Magic. Rufus Scrimgeour. How the hell he stayed in office, I will never know. And I've asked several people that question. They don't know, either. The man squandered the Ministry's dwindling resources, fighting battles that he could not have won had Merlin and the Four Founders risen from the dead and helped him. Of course, since they didn't, he got his arse kicked. Not literally, which is a shame, 'cause that would have been really rather funny. I did mention I'm cynical, didn't I?

When he was elected, I thought it'd be better. Didn't know the man from Adam, but since he was a former Auror, surely he'd know about combat and battle tactics. Hah! I was a juvenile arsehole back then. I reckon as soon as someone's sworn into the Minister's Office, they lose anything resembling common sense. Doesn't matter if the wizard was full of smarts (and believe me, some of them were certifiable geniuses), but as soon as the got that palatial office, private secretary and benefits package that would make Henry VIII jealous, every ounce of sense was replaced with foppish behaviour and self-preservation instincts. I know Rufus did, and I don't even wanna start on Fudge. It was a shame he died in that giant attack. Insulting him really cheered me up. Having a crappy day? Let loose a tirade against the Fudgepacker instant cheer-up. Should bottle that, really.

And here comes the star of the Ministry! Clad in those handsome red robes that clash terribly with his hair, is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it's Super Auror Ron Weasley! The man, who according to Scumsucker down there, was pretty much single-handedly responsible for the death of Voldemort. I'm sure the fact that he's a pureblood is irrelevant to the Ministry.

Of course, Harry was a half-blood, and the third member of their Trio, Hermione Granger... no, Hermione _Weasley_ now, a Muggleborn, had nothing to do with the victory over Voldemort. Three naïve kids... responsible for more victories during the war than the entire Ministry.

I'm just here to finish off what they started. Ron's an Auror. Hermione's a professor at Hogwarts, and Harry's dead.

It's almost time to make my entrance. I've spent nearly five years prepping for this fight. New weapons. New spells. Thousands of hours of physical combat training. I'm also tingling with excitement. They think Ron Weasley's a good fighter? Wait 'til they get a load of me.

* * *

Rufus Scrimgeour, the 108th Minister of Magic for Great Britain, smiled at the waiting crowd. This was the reason he had wanted to become the Minister. The blind adoration of the taxpayers. People chanting his name as he appeared in public, all wanting to claim that they knew him.

The doors it had opened in the last five years, and the financial rewards he received, had made his hard struggle during the war worth it. The fact that he hadn't fought never entered his mind. He was an Auror first and foremost, and ran the Ministry in a war-time footing. No, he was the man who had led the failing resources of a beleaguered government to one of the most impressive victories in history. Under his administration, Voldemort, the most powerful Dark Lord in ten centuries, had been vanquished. History was written by the winners, and he'd certainly made his way into the pages of history books.

He cleared his throat, the _Sonorous_ charm on the stage allowing him to get the attention of the people, as they quieted down to hear what he had to say. After all, he was the Minister. Surely everything he said was important to them. It had been that way for years, and it was a tradition Rufus was only too happy to continue.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm honoured to be here today, helping to celebrate the fifth anniversary of our Victory over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" He paused, waiting for the crowd to cheer. They did, of course. "It's been a difficult five years, rebuilding from the damage that He caused, but thanks to the hard work of your Ministry, we've made remarkable progress." He smiled, watching the cameras from the _Daily Prophet_ reporters flash. He took a moment to preen for them, letting his rugged handsomeness shine through. After all, the people needed someone to look up to, and as Minister, it was his duty and responsibility to be that person.

"We're here today to celebrate, and also to honour those heroes of the war. The Ministry's brave combatants, Aurors like Ronald Weasley, and with the small assistance of the Order of the Phoenix, led by Headmaster Dumbledore. Without these people, the Ministry would have had a much tougher time defeating You-Know-Who. Thanks to their help, we were able to defeat You-Know-Who that little bit sooner, saving Merlin knows how many lives. Thanks to the Ministry leading the Aurors to victory, it's given us a new golden age of peace here in Britain.

"And now, the man of the hour!" Scrimgeour raised his hand, drawing the attention of the crowd to the side of the stage, where a man in the bright red robes of the Auror Division, made his way slowly forward. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Master Auror Ronald Bilius Weasley!" The crowd, predictably, started to applaud wildly.

As Ron approached the podium, he basked for a moment, letting the cameras take a picture of his perfect smile. It was a smile he'd seen before on Gilderoy Lockhart, and had spent the last two weeks practicing in front of the mirror. The fact that it annoyed his wife? Didn't matter. Had to look good for the press. He was still hoping to gain that elusive award: _Witch Weekly_'s Most Charming Smile... He got to the podium, glancing back to the side of the stage, where his wife stood, giving him a little wave of encouragement.

He cleared his throat. "Thank you, Minister." Ron's confident baritone filled the air. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen." He sighed. "Well... what a time we've had of it, heh? Five years. It's difficult to believe that it's only been five years. Five years of rebuilding what You-Know-Who destroyed. Five years of capturing the last few Death Eaters, bringing them the justice they so richly deserve. Five years of making Britain safe again for good witches and wizards like yourselves."

He coughed slightly. "I'd like to thank my wife, who's supported me for so many years, while we take the fight to those who escaped the war. Without her occasional input, I wouldn't be the man I am today."

On the stage, Ron didn't notice the scowl that appeared on Hermione's face at his gross down-playing of her abilities and influence, but she swallowed it down. It wouldn't do to air their dirty laundry in public... _Later, Mr. Weasley, we'll be having words about my 'occasional input'._ She thought to herself, marshalling her face back to neutrality.

Oblivious, Ron carried on. "I suppose at this time, I should mention Harry Potter. It's true, without Harry's support, I'd never have been able to stop You-Know-Who from destroying Wizarding Britain. So, wherever he is, I hope he's enjoying his life, now that You-Know-Who's been stopped. I'm sure that, whenever he wakes up, he gives thanks to the Auror division for destroying the blight on the Wizarding world that was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"Now, there's one more thing-" Ron was cut off, as something impacted the stage behind him. Without thinking, he dived to one side, covering his head with his arms. After a moment, when he realised it wasn't an attack, he turned, looking back at the stage.

What he saw made his blood run cold. It was a body, clearly male. However, gaining more information than that was difficult. The face of the man was a mass of bruises. Both eyes had been blackened, the nose was broken, and bent nauseatingly to one side. Several teeth were missing, although judging by the state of the rest of them, that could just be bad hygiene on his part.

The body was shirtless, revealing a number of slices across the upper chest, and a mangled section on the lower right torso, indicating several mashed ribs. Plainly, the man had been in a hell of a fight, and come out on the losing side, considering he'd landed on the stage during the middle of a speech. Only the slight rise of the chest showed that the man was still alive. That, and the pulsing blood coming from the many wounds.

The thing that made his blood freeze in his veins was the clear Dark Mark on the man's left forearm. It was something Ron had hoped he would never see again in his life-time. After almost five years, he'd forgotten just how terrifying that little symbol could be. The Mark of Voldemort.

Ron glanced up at the battered face, mentally reviewing the Auror files, seeing if he could figure out who it was. Of course, it was Hermione, who'd come running onto the stage with a drawn wand, who worked out his identity.

"It's Marcus Selwynn." She said imperiously. "One of the lower ranking Death Eaters. He managed to escape the purge five years ago." She looked up at Scrimgeour. "No-one's seen him since."

Scrimgeour may have been an Auror in the past, but now he was a politician. He knew he had to put some positive spin on this, or he'd end up looking like a fool. "Mr. Weasley, arrest that man, on charges of being a Death Eater in the service of You-Know-Who, terrorist actions, and being a member of a subversive cult."

Standing up, Scrimgeour addressed the populace. "As you can see, yet another Death Eater, taken into custody. This is the last Death Eater. Thanks to the tireless work of the Ministry, we are all safe."

A loud chuckle caught everyone's attention. They looked around, trying to find out who was laughing. Hermione, being by far the most observant person, had the thought of looking up, glancing from rooftop to rooftop.

When she got to the Triple W, Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, she found him. Crouched on the parapet, one knee raised slightly so he could rest his arm on it, looking completely unconcerned about balancing three stories up on the roof. He was watching the scene with a grim amusement, his mouth a thin line, but projecting an air of enjoying himself.

"What the hell..." She muttered. She raised her wand, casting a minor charm on her eyes, allowing her to see better.

The stranger was dressed in a white bodysuit, made of something that appeared to be a cross between thick rubber and dragon-hide, stretched tightly across a well-muscled chest. A pair of thin gold bands, circled around impressive biceps, contained a small gold plate, with an inlaid rune, designed to generate a low-level _Protego_ shield around the wielder. Nobody had yet been able to make the runic device function properly. It was something Hermione had been working on while at Hogwarts, but had abandoned the project during their fitful seventh year, and had yet to restart it.

Tight white gloves, made of some inexplicable shiny material, covered his hands, while calf-high boots, of the same material, graced his feet. The thing that really drew Hermione's attention was the stranger's head.

He was wearing a cowl of some kind, a complete covering at the back of his head, while it came to just below his nose at the front. The neck of the cowl rested just under his chin, a slight distortion under the fabric there. Like the rest of the costume, it looked like rubber, with the shimmering of dragon-hide inlaid. The eyes, though, were the thing that immediately grabbed your attention. Seamlessly blended with white rubber were two black lenses, reflecting the sunlight on the rooftop. Hanging from the top of his shoulders was a bright white cloak, which came down to his ankles.

The stranger gestured to the unconscious Selwynn, now being taken away by Ministry personnel. "White Knight takes Black Pawn." The voice was deep and low, closer to a growl than an actual voice. It sounded like someone was grinding two rocks together.

Scrimgeour's wand was in his hand instantly. He pointed to the stranger. "Who are you?"

The stranger stood, displaying a physique was that almost inhumanly impossible. The man wasn't tall, around 5"11', but carried himself with the air of a giant. Every part of him that could be seen appeared to be in perfect shape, chiselled muscles over a frame without an ounce of fat, a virtual Adonis; the perfect warrior.

"I'm the White Knight, Minister Scrimgeour." Knight's tone was neither respectful not disrespectful. He sounded like he was discussing the weather. "I'm the one who tracked down the scumbag your men have just carried away."

"You're a vigilante." Scrimgeour said flatly, his lip curling with disgust.

Knight cocked his head slightly. "Didn't I just hear you commend the actions of vigilantes? What was the Order of the Phoenix but a vigilante group?"

On the stage below, Auror Weasley gave a few discrete hand gestures to one of his squads, ordering them to make their way to WWW to arrest the man. Several people discretely vanished under disillusionment charms, probably making their way through the crowd.

Knight caught these gestures, suppressing the grin that threatened to erupt over his face. "Pointless, Auror." He called out. "By the time your men get here, I will be gone. If you wish to talk, you'd better play nice." He estimated he had just under a minute before they made their way to the roof.

"Why should I want to speak to you?" Ron shouted arrogantly. "I'm a Master Auror... I could have captured that man with no problem. I could capture you blindfolded."

Knight just shook his head slightly. "Doubtful." He took a step closer to the edge of the parapet. "I'm curious about this... _celebration_." He growled. "Why are _you_ being honoured?"

Ron straightened his shoulders, puffing out his chest like a peacock. Hermione, watching her husband, for a moment remembered pompous Percy. She shook her head, clearing the thought, as she looked at Knight. "Without me, You-Know-Who would never have been defeated!" He proclaimed proudly.

Knight nodded. "Right, right." He replied amiably. "Congratulations on that, by the way."

"Uh... thank you?" Ron said, looking confused. Why was this man threatening one moment, and congratulating him the next moment? With a moment's delay, he focussed back on Knight. "You're under arrest!"

Chuckling, Knight shook his head. "I don't think so, Auror. There's still work to be done. The Second War isn't yet over."

_That_ gathered the attention of everyone present. Wasn't this a celebration to commemorate the end of the Second War, five years ago?

"What nonsense is this?" Scrimgeour called out mockingly. "All the Death Eaters have been taken into Ministry custody. There aren't any left. You-Know-Who is gone." His tone suddenly sobered, and he became dangerous. "The Ministry of Magic has won the war. You are attempting to ferment trouble, and we cannot allow that. You will be taken into custody so that we may... _educate_ you, as to the current state of affairs."

Knight suddenly glanced behind him, jumping off the parapet onto the roof proper. There were the sounds of a scuffle for almost ten seconds, before Knight returned to the parapet. Waving a hand, the bodies of three Aurors floated over the roof top, hovering in mid air for a second, before the slowly lowered to the ground outside the door of WWW. They slumped as Knight released the _Leviosa_ charm.

"That was rude." Knight growled, sounding more dangerous. "If I'm attempting to ferment trouble, and there's no Death Eaters left, am I supposed to let the other fourteen escape? After all, I just delivered one to you. One _you_ missed. What if you missed others?" Without waiting for an answer, Knight turned to the gaggle of reporters. "You may quote me on this; 'White Knight takes Black Pawn. As to the rest of the Death Eaters; I'll be coming for you.'" Knight leapt forward off the building, somersaulting towards the ground. Before he hit, a cloud of thick white smoke rose from the ground, obscuring his fall. Four Aurors dashed forward, waiting to arrest the man who'd just fallen three stories. When the smoke cleared, there was nothing.

The White Knight had gone.


	3. History Abounds

– **CHAPTER ONE –**

_**History Abounds**_

**Sunday, 21****st**** June, 1998**

_Okay... I've faced Voldemort and not been nearly this nervous._ Such were the thoughts of Harry James Potter, son of Lily and James Potter, Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter, Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, the 'Boy-Who-Lived', the 'Chosen One', _Witch Weekly's_ 2nd Most Eligible Bachelor (number one was _still_ Gilderoy Lockhart, even though the man had blown his own brains out with a broken wand...), youngest Quidditch seeker in a century (actually, 112 years. Just because Hermione had sequestered him in the library one Tuesday afternoon, that didn't mean he was going to do Binns' essay, and the record books were right there...) and Head Boy of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

_If it's this difficult to ask out the female of the species, how the hell is the human race still around? I'm amazed we didn't die out millennia ago._ He smirked to himself as a silly thought overcame him. _Man, I wish it was like the caveman days. All I'd have to do is hit her over the head with a club, and drag her back to my room._ He sighed wistfully. _I'm _so_ tempted to do that, anyway..._

The object of his musings was barely six feet in front of him. He had told himself that he would not do this until Voldemort had been defeated. Dumbledore springing the prophecy on him two years ago had merely reinforced the compulsion, but school was ending in a few short weeks, and Harry didn't want to lose touch with her.

Of course, confessing his undying love was probably not the best way to open negotiations, but Harry's experience with girls was pathetically limited. He cast his mind back to the Christmas break over fifth year, the year when everyone thought he was an attention-seeking mass murderer (there's no such thing as bad publicity...) and Cho attempting to corner him in the Room of Requirement after a DA meeting.

While Harry was not the sharpest tool in the shed (even though his IQ was a mere six points less than Hermione's) even he could tell that Cho was reaching for the remnants of her relationship with Cedric. Harry was the last person to see Cedric alive, ergo, Harry's a suitable replacement as a boyfriend.

Of course, Harry running out of the Room of Requirement squealing like a piglet in abject terror had done nothing to bolster Cho's delusional feelings, which made her assisting Marietta betray the DA to Umbitch far more rewarding for her. He was still grateful that he hadn't made a bloody fool of himself by asking her to the Yule Ball in his fourth year. _That_ would have been a little too embarrassing. Of course, by the time he'd worked up the courage to ask Hermione, she'd already said yes to Viktor Krum. _Wanker..._

The date with Parvati had been okay, since he'd made it clear that he was asking her in a polite, friendly way, and nothing more would come of the evening than some dancing, drinking, and polite conversation. Parvati had been a little miffed, but just watching the Boy-Who-Lived dribble over Hermione for the six hours of the ball had convinced her of the utter futility of lusting over Harry. She'd had a pleasant evening, performing in the opening dance with him, before sharing drinks and giggles with Padma over Ron's complete failure as a gentleman, and a few more dances with Harry.

The encounter with Ginny during his sixth year was one of Harry's less-enjoyable memories. Harry had returned from a lesson with Professor Dumbledore, _why did it take him weeks to tell me about the Horcruxes, when we could've covered the material in a day? And that would've included making notes..._ before entering the common room to see the Gryffindor Quidditch team involved in a raucous celebration.

Hermione had been at the party, talking with Ron, and she watched the pretty red-haired chaser tackle Harry, wrapping her arms around Harry.

Harry felt the red blur tackle him, locking lips with him. He'd immediately clamped his lips closed, and felt his body shift to red alert. Adrenaline flooded through him, accelerating his system to 'fight or flight'. Neither option had seemed suitable, since running from the common room would embarrass both him and Ginny, and socking her on the jaw, while rewarding, would have done nothing to help his relationship with his best friend. _Fun, but not helpful._

He'd pried her hands away, stepping back subtly, as he tried to explain to Ginny about a common misconception; Potter men didn't necessarily chase redheads. She glossed over the explanation, convinced that Harry was just playing hard (read: impossible) to get, and stepped towards him. He retreated to the kitchens, hiding like a coward, listening to Dobby explain... something boring.

Harry had gone back to the dormitory at 1am, hopefully late enough to avoid any confrontations. Of course, Ron had stayed up drinking Butterbeer (the alcoholic version, damn him!) all the time he'd been gone, and was slumped on his bed in a drunken haze. Harry's luck being what it was, his entry into the dorm room roused Ron, leading to an argument about 'leading his sister on'.

This fascinating difference of opinions, where inner beliefs and feelings were offered in a mature and expressive way by both parties, had ended with Ron trying to punch Harry, only to collapse in a drunken stupor. After Harry had put him in bed, casting the necessary charms to make sure Ron didn't choke on his own vomit during the night, Harry had collapsed, wondering when the hell he'd 'led Ginny on'.

The debate had continued on in the morning, with Harry making his points at loudly as possible, merely to exacerbate Ron's hangover. While fun, it didn't seem to get the message across. After yet another embarrassing conversation in the Great Hall, Ron came to agree with Harry's point of view. The broken nose, fractured ribs and baldness hex Ron had received from Harry had simply reinforced his opinions.

So, here he was. About to do something he'd said he wouldn't do. Ask _her_ out. The misconception about Potters and redheads only applied to the last four generations. Anyone looking back would have noticed that Potter men always fell for the smartest witch of their generation. Since Lily Evans was the smartest of hers, the redhead mistake was compounded.

However, _she_ wasn't a redhead. She had beautiful flowing curls of golden brown, with subtle highlights that caught the sunlight. At least, that was his opinion. Hers was that she had a bushy mess that was uncontrollable without a pint of Sleekeazy's Hair Tonic. Ron's was that she was secretly creating a suitable home for both Pigwidgeon and Hedwig. The one time he'd shared that opinion with her, she'd cast a shrinking hex on his genitalia, and hadn't take it off. For two months. That still made Harry laugh, even a year later.

He sat on the couch, staring across at her as she worked on her final revision. NEWTs were around the corner, and he knew she intended to pass with the highest grades in the history of ever.

She was reading a book about Runes, something that both baffled and bored him, biting down on her lip as she casually wound a lock of her hair around her finger. "Something up, Harry?" She asked, not looking up from her reading.

"How do you always know, Hermione?" He asked, amused.

She looked up, giving him a condescending look. "_Please_, Harry." She said primly. "I've known you for nearly seven years. You give off this energy that says you need to talk."

He chuckled. "You know me better than I know myself, Miss Granger."

"Well... yes." She said slowly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which, to her, it was. "So, tell me, Harry; what's bothering you?"

Harry cleared his throat, his nervousness making her smile. "Uh... it's not... _bothering_ me, exactly... but there is something I need to talk to you about, Hermione. I'm just not sure where to start..."

She smiled at him. "Harry, has there ever been anything you couldn't discuss with me?"

He grinned at her. "Well, there was that weird rash I found-"

"Enough!" She interrupted, trying to mask her nausea. "I told you at the time that wearing deodorant down there would not work, Harry. You didn't listen, and you paid the price." She looked faintly green. "At least you didn't do it again."

"Hey, I'm slow, but even I learn." He watched her marshal her features back under control. "I promise I'll never spray deodorant there again."

"So, now you've managed to break the ice by making me want to be sick, can you tell me what it is you need to talk about?" She glanced at him, staring at her with an unusual intensity.

He fidgeted for a moment. "I wanted to talk about my dating life, Hermione."

"You have a dating life?" She asked mockingly.

"Why is it everyone says you're sweet, polite, prim and proper?" He asked, glaring at her. "Do you save your snarky evilness just for me?"

"Yes." She replied, winking at him. "I mean, come on, Harry. I've seen nuns with a better social life than you have."

"Thanks for that." He answered, slumping back in his chair. "You know, I don't think I've been insulted enough this week. Maybe I should go and look up the Malfoys for some extra Harry abuse."

"Stop being pathetic." Hermione replied, grinning at him. "You know I love you. Now, what about your pathetically non-existent dating life?"

He stood up. "If you're gonna pick on me, I'll come back later. You know, give you a chance to abuse some poor little first years or maybe set fire to Crookshanks."

She grabbed his hand. "Sit down, bloody coward." She sobered up. "Come on, Harry. Seriously. What about your dating life?"

The nervousness was back. Again. It seemed to want to take up permanent residence in Harry's stomach. "Haven't... haven't you ever wondered why I've remained so obstinately single during my time here?"

She shrugged. "I figured either you'd just not found anyone who interested you, or you were gay."

Harry just stared. "You... you thought I was either bored, or gay..."

"Yes." She replied simply. "I mean, there's been _plenty_ of opportunities over the years. Cho practically jumped you in the RoR."

"Don't remind me." He groaned, before sitting up. "And you got that I might be gay 'cause I ran squealing from her?"

She chuckled. "Well... running crying like a frightened little child from a pretty, athletic girl who's totally into you does generally offer that opinion, yes."

"Hermione!"

"Fine, Harry. I know you're not gay." She said, holding her hands up in a mollifying gesture. "I must admit, I did occasionally wonder why you never dated anyone. You did have options."

"What about you?" He asked, turning the tables. "I never saw anyone around who could've become the new Mr. Granger."

"We're talking about you, Harry." Hermione said quickly. "Don't need to discuss me."

He grinned. "And suddenly the conversation becomes far more enjoyable."

Hermione glared. "I haven't felt the need to date, Harry." She said primly. "I've been far more concerned with my studies."

"Do you smell that?" Harry asked, sniffing experimentally.

"What?"

"Bullshit." Harry replied, grinning at her. "Wanna take another stab at that?"

She just rolled her eyes. "We're discussing your complete sexual inadequacy here, Harry, not mine."

"Aha!" Harry crowed. "So you admit your complete sexual inadequacy, Hermione? I'm shocked, really."

"People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, Harry."

"Ooh, low blow, Granger."

"Ah, suck it up, Potter." She grinned. "At least we'd know one way or the other about those rumours..."

Harry's response was cut off as his head exploded with agony. For a moment, Harry could see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing but the overwhelming agony of the scar connection with Voldemort. He fell off the couch, rolling as half of his synapses overloaded, sending the agony from his head to his entire body.

After almost a minute, the pain subsided to a vicious throb, letting Harry's vision restore itself. He looked up, seeing Hermione bent over him, concern plastered on her face.

"Are you all right?" She asked, all playful banter gone.

"He's coming." Harry said ominously. "He's on his way here, now. Full army with him." Harry took a deep breath, hauling himself to his feet. "The Final Battle is here."

* * *

Harry stalked down the corridor, his shoes clicking against the old stone floor. As he made his way to the Headmaster's office, more and more people fell in behind him. Soon, he was leading the whole DA, plus a number of the older students who'd never really considered extra defence training as necessary. However, seeing Harry marching through the school, they began to realise just how foolish that delusion was.

Hermione was at Harry's side, marching with him step for step. She'd been with him for all of his time at Hogwarts, minus those painful two first months. Now, she was his confidant, his advisor, and his friend. The Final Battle. She'd almost heard the capital letters he'd assigned to it. She knew the cliché; when two men go out to face each other... only one will return.

Of course, like almost everyone else, she hoped that Harry would be the one to return from this battle. If he fell... it would be the end of everything. Voldemort would take over Hogwarts, and use it as a fortress to launch campaign after campaign against Wizarding Britain, devouring all resistance, using it to gather resources to launch a new campaign into Europe. Once he had control of Europe, he'd move on to America. One he controlled Europe and America, it was doubtful there'd be enough resistance left.

Harry had to win this fight, not just for himself, but for the population of the world. Not just the magic users, but the Muggles, too. She had as much to lose from this battle as Harry, so she'd stand with him. As she had for the last seven years.

* * *

They approached the Headmaster's office, standing before the gargoyle that guarded the entryway, when a series of alarms went off. The gargoyle started to move on its own, cycling downwards as something came from the top of the stairs.

Dumbledore was not panicking. No... not panicking at... oh, who was he trying to kid? He didn't feel fear when facing Voldemort, even though the best he would be able to hope for was a stalemate. Harry was the only one who could defeat Voldemort. But, as he'd told Harry six years ago in the Hospital Wing, 'to the organised mind, death is the next great adventure'. He was ready to face that adventure. He didn't even mind the thought that this would be his last day on Earth. As long as he saw Harry win, he'd be able to die happy.

When the intruder alert went off, he grabbed his hat and wand, heading straight away for the stairs. He'd need to organise a defence of Hogwarts, and make sure that Harry was adequately protected.

He jumped onto the stairs, clicking his tongue in impatience as they slowly slid down. The gargoyle jumped to one side, and Dumbledore came face-to-face with the young man he was hoping to find. "Harry?"

Harry's emerald eyes were haunted. He knew what the alarm meant. "He's here." He aid ominously. "It's time, Headmaster."

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "I wish it weren't so, Harry." He muttered, looking at the young man. "We're not ready for this."

The sound of chuckling broke Dumbledore from his reverie. "Once we reach a certain point of preparedness, Headmaster, having more time becomes a burden." Harry said. "It's time. We're as ready as we could be. With the destruction of all of his Horcruxes, Voldemort's mortal. There will never be a better time."

He nodded. "Very well, Harry. I have already summoned the Order. They are on their way. They should be here in minutes." He looked at the crowd behind Harry. "I don't suppose I could persuade you to take the students and hide while we drive him away."

Harry just snorted.

"No... I didn't think so." Dumbledore said, sighing in resignation. He led the group through the corridors, heading for the Entrance Hall. "Do you have any information regarding Voldemort's forces?"

Harry and Hermione had fallen into step with the Headmaster, the remaining students following the trio. Harry cleared his throat. "From what I can tell, he has a full army with him. Vampires, werewolves, the last of the giants, trolls, Dementors... you name it, chances are it's there."

"How does he have vampires?" Hermione asked. "It's still daylight."

Harry closed his eyes, his mind reaching into the link that he shared with the despotic monster. After a moment, he spoke. "Potions. He's given them all a potion that works like sunscreen. It's limited in duration, but it'll last for another couple of hours. Same thing for the werewolves. They've got a potion that mimics the effects of the full moon."

Dumbledore sucked air through his teeth raggedly. "This is not good, Harry."

"Could be worse." Harry replied, pulling his wand from his back pocket, ignoring Moody's safety tips about blowing off a buttock.

"And how could it be worse?" Hermione asked from next to him.

"Haven't got a clue." Harry replied nonchalantly. "But, I'm sure if we looked hard enough, we could find a way."

"Have I told you lately, Harry," Dumbledore said, the faint trace of a smile evident on his ancient face, "how much I don't like your sense of humour?"

Harry smiled. "Not since last Tuesday, Headmaster."

"I blame Sirius." Hermione said, reaching down and giving his hand a quick squeeze, before she pulled out her wand.

From one of the side corridors, Ron, Seamus and Dean approached, falling into step behind Harry. "Hey, mate." Ron said gravely.

"Ron." Harry replied. "Got an afternoon of work ahead of us, don't we?"

Seamus broke into the conversation. "All things considered, Harry, I'd rather have an afternoon full of Snape's potion essays."

Harry looked over his shoulder, gasping. "Seamus! How can you say such sacrilege?" He clucked his tongue. "I'd rather face Voldemort than deal with Snape's bloody essays."

The gallows humour, entirely inappropriate, managed to break some of the tension as Harry, Dumbledore and Hermione led the small group to the Entrance Hall.

"Harry!" A familiar and welcome voice called out. A pair of freakishly strong arms wrapped Harry into a hug, which he returned with all his might.

"Hey, Moony." Harry replied, before the arms changed, and a bob of pink hair filled his vision. "Hey, Tonks!" Harry squeaked as she squeezed.

Before she released him, Tonks spoke into his neck. "You be careful out there, Harry. Don't wanna lose my little brother."

"You, too." Harry replied, before pulling back. "Moony, have you asked her to marry you yet?" Both Tonks and Lupin erupted into fiery blushes, before shaking their heads slightly. "You daft old git!" He pushed Tonks towards Remus. "Get it done, now. I want a werewolf/metamorph godchild in nine months and a day."

Harry watched Lupin stammer for a moment, before Tonks just nodded, pouncing on the werewolf with a kiss that left _Harry_ breathless. He turned to the next of his allies. "Mad-Eye, you sly old devil! You're still alive, old friend!"

Hermione was faintly scandalised at the familiarity that Harry was using, but relented when she heard Moody's rusty chuckle. "Alive and kicking, Potter."

"Ready to use those kicking legs on a couple of Death Eaters?" Harry asked, holding out his hand. Moody stepped forward, grasping Harry's forearm, while Harry returned the favour.

"Ready and more than willing." Moody said, giving Harry's arm a final pump, before stepping back. Harry, like all generals before battle, was making his way through the troops, exchanging a word, a joke, something to make them feel valued. And they all knew that with Harry Potter as the general of this battle, they were valued.

Harry raised his wand to his throat. "_Sonorous._ Okay, ladies and gents. Most of you, we've determined battle tactics over the last few months, so you know where you need to be. Allow me to clarify now. 1st years, you're runners for the troops outside. 2nd years, you're to protect Madame Pomfrey and the hospital wing from all comers. 3rd through 5th years, you guys are the artillery. Stick close to the 5th year prefects, they'll be giving you your orders. 6th and 7th years, you're under the command of the Order."

Harry waved his wand, conjuring something he'd been practicing on and off for almost a year. In his hands, a banner appeared, a piece of black cloth with the Hogwarts crest atop a pair of crossed wands.

"This is why we're fighting today. Voldemort wants Hogwarts for himself. It is _ours_, our school, our home. We will fight for it, until we can't fight any more!"

The crowd cheered, as Harry led most of them outside, the group of second years dashing towards the stairs.

Once of the field outside the doors, Harry turned to Ron. "Right. Let's get to work. Double ranks, Mr. Weasley."

Ron smiled, nodding. "Double ranks, sir." He turned to the assembled group. "Form two ranks!" The crowd quickly split, forming two longs lines, hundreds of students stood next to each other.

"And, Mr. Weasley... if you find anyone using spells not in the curriculum..."

"Take house points, sir?" Ron asked, winking at Harry.

"No. Give him a Butterbeer on the spot, Mr. Weasley." The crowd giggled nervously at the banter between the two men.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Shall we proceed?"

The group moved forward slowly, seeing the Dark army appear at the edges of the Forbidden forest. It was an intimidating sight; dozens of giants, hundreds of werewolves and vampires, a small army of dark creatures like Kappas and Red Caps jostling for position. At the head of each group was a band of Death Eaters, their masks glinting in the warm June sunshine.

Even though Harry couldn't see him, he could feel the presence of Voldemort, loitering at the back of the field, wanting to watch the mayhem he was about to cause.

"For Hogwarts!" Harry shouted, raising his wand in hand.

"For the Order of the Phoenix!" Moody shouted.

"For Harry Potter!" Hermione and Ron shouted together, starting a chant of 'Potter, Potter' throughout the group.

Harry smiled at Ron and Hermione, then winked at Dumbledore. "Catch you at the end!" He said, suddenly breaking into a run towards the assembled hordes. For a few moments, it was just Harry charging forward, seemingly towards his death.

Hermione suddenly went pale as she watched Harry charge against a thousands-strong enemy. "He'll get himself killed!" She whispered to Ron, before glancing at his face. "This is madness!"

Ron chuckled, before raising his wand. "But what magnificent madness!" He broke into a run, following his friend, hearing the sounds of other people charging ahead.

"Gryffindors!" Moody spat, as he started to hobble forward on his peg-leg. "Silly buggers'll get 'emselves killed every time."

* * *

Harry kept running, ignoring the rest of his allies for now. He wanted to get this battle over and done with. If he died... well, he'd take Voldemort with him. That was a promise he'd made last summer when Dumbledore had finally taken him to his parents' graves, shortly before the second mission to the Gaunt house.

While there, Harry had seen first-hand the spell that nearly cost Dumbledore's hand, and had managed to reverse the damage, restoring Dumbledore's hand to life. _That_ curse would be seeing some use today. He already knew he who wanted to use it on, too.

Harry headed straight for the werewolves, already in the canine form, even though the full moon was three weeks away. "_Argentum Telum Tempestas!_" He shouted, waving his wand in a figure eight, before stabbing through each of the loops. The Silver Dart Storm erupted from his wand, thousands of tiny silver flechettes tearing through werewolf flesh like hot knives through butter. Many of the creatures shrieked as they died, cursing the day they'd decided to be on Voldemort's side.

Turning his attention to the almost-thousand vampires, Harry let loose a Dark Arts curse, designed specifically for defeating the creatures of the night. "_Cruor ut Calx!_" The blood to stone curse worked quickly, hardening the blood in a vampire's body within moments. They were simply dropping from battle, their bodies far too heavy even for the vampire-enhanced strength. Another advantage of the curse was that it would negate any potions the vampire had taken, meaning that more and more were becoming susceptible to the bright sunlight pervading the field.

By now, the rest of the Army of Light was entering the battle, picking enemies and starting to fight.

Harry watched dispassionately as the two armies broke up into a series of small duels and skirmishes. As much as he wanted to get involved, protect his friends and smite his enemies, he knew he had to focus on the big cheese.

He started forward, skipping round duels. He saw Remus Lupin duel with Pettigrew, Tonks and Neville Longbottom against Bellatrix LeStrange, Ron and Hermione against Snape and Malfoy. As much as Harry wanted to put down the vermin himself, Voldemort was here, and that required Harry's full attention.

He carried onwards, watching Death Eaters, Order members and school children fall, some to get back up, others staying down.

* * *

Dumbledore was engaged in yet another fight for his life. He'd seen friends, co-workers and his precious students fighting for their lives, but he couldn't dismiss his opponents. He was engaged in death duels with both LeStrange brothers, whose spell repertoires seemed to consist of the Cruciatus and Avada Kedavra curses. Fortunately, Dumbledore's primary skill was transfiguration, and he simply sent blades of grass, transfigured into small steel shields, to block each curse.

"Gentlemen, it would be in your best interests to surrender." He offered kindly, sending yet more shields between them.

"Dumbledore, you stupid old bastard!" Rastaban shouted. "You should just die! Our lord will kill you!"

Dumbledore, displaying the agility of a man far younger, span out of the way, sending back a stunner, simply replied. "He has been trying for decades, gentlemen, and-" He ducked a sickly yellow light, the Cruciatus, and straightened up again, sending a spell-chain of _Reducto_, _Stupefy_ and _Incarcerous._ "And he has yet to succeed."

A new voice entered the battle. "_Aer Pango Stupefy Incarcerous!_" Dumbledore looked up to see a wedge of hyper-dense red air hit the two men, thrusting them backwards to the ground.

"Impressive, Harry!" Dumbledore praised. "Is that your new spell?"

Both men ducked as a wave of green curses flew towards them. Harry tossed back a couple of _Reducto_s, before pulling Dumbledore to his feet. "Yep." Harry replied, his eyes scanning the field. "I'll tell you later."

Harry looked around, not noticing Dolohov approaching the two men from behind. With an evil grin, he waved his wand at the heroes, a long purple flame erupting from the end. Both Harry and Dumbledore felt the massive wave of magic and spun round, only to face a heart-rending sight.

"You shall not harm Harry Potter!" A small male voice shouted. Dobby leapt into the air, the flame whip neatly slicing the tiny elf in half

"No!" Harry screamed, casting a massively over-charged _Reducto_ at Dolohov, reducing the man to a fine red mist. He didn't bother to check on Dobby. Nobody could survive being bisected across the chest, not even the indomitable little house elf.

Harry extended his wand to Dumbledore, who raised his own. As soon as the two tips touched, a shield erupted around the two men, powerful enough to block even an Unforgivable. Only one, though.

"I haven't yet been able to find Tom." Dumbledore reported, his face appearing old as the shield took a significant portion of his magic to maintain. Fortunately, it was only draining while in effect, so as soon as it dropped, he would be back to normal.

"He's here." Harry reported tersely. "Within a hundred feet, too."

"What will you do?" Dumbledore asked, watching McGonagall get hit by a _Crucio_. Harry glanced over, seeing his favourite professor struck down.

"Go!" He shouted, breaking the contact of his wand and dashing away. Dumbledore obeyed the command, going over to his deputy.

Harry cast a _Leviosa_ charm on his shoes, rising above the battle. He saw the Light fighters looking demoralised, and decided to announce his presence. "Order of the Phoenix! Hogwarts School! We fight for the light!"

A number of the duels stopped, as people looked up to see Harry Potter, the 'Boy-Who-Lived' floating above them all.

Ron staggered over to Hermione, several gashes on his arms and chest from Snape's _Sectusempra_ curse. "What the bloody hell's he doing?" He whispered urgently.

Hermione felt her heart rise into her throat. "I... I don't know..." She was genuinely concerned about this move... he was making himself a target!

A high-pitched malevolent voice filled the silent. "_Avada Kedavra!_" A bolt of green light, brighter than anything yet seen in the battle, soared towards Harry, impacting his chest and throwing him to the ground.

"No!" Screams from almost all of the light side filled the battlefield, as another figure rose into the air. He was immediately identifiable as the Dark Lord Voldemort, from the pale green skin, red eyes and bald head, with a pair of slits for nostrils.

"So ends the legacy of the 'Boy-Who-Lived'!" Voldemort crowed. He watched his warriors cheering as they realised that they had made the right choice, and their Lord would reign supreme. "I have won!"

A harsh screech interrupted Voldemort's rant, as a red blur flew from the sun, hurtling towards Voldemort with the speed of a missile.

"Hello, Fawkes." Voldemort said, not wincing as the bird started to sing. The song made the dark army flinch, causing seven vampires to combust into flames, and two giants to pass out.

"You haven't won, Tom." Dumbledore shouted, regrouping with the rest of the Order. "We will battle you until death."

"A short battle, Albus." Voldemort replied. "You will be dead in minutes. Without the Chosen One, you have no chance to defeat me."

Another blur of light short forward, something silver glinting as it raced towards Voldemort. Voldemort dropped to the ground as his chest erupted with black blood.

Fawkes hovered over the other blur of light, reforming into the last person any of them expected to see. "You know why you never win, Tom?" The arrival asked. "You talk too bloody much!"

Voldemort floated into the air, the damage to his chest repairing itself as he floated upwards. "Potter! I'm... surprised to see you still alive."

Harry Potter, the 'Boy-Who-Lived-Again', hovered in the air, a scant dozen feet from Voldemort, holding a very familiar sword in his hand. "Why's that, Tom?" He watched the wound close. "Hmm... bodily cellular regeneration." He nodded grudgingly at Voldemort. "Cool trick. Guess what, though. It's not enough to save you."

_§How do you live?§_ Voldemort hissed is Parseltongue.

Harry raised the sword. "All thanks to you, Tommy-boy."

_§Explain!§_ He hissed again.

"Horcruxes, Tom." Harry replied casually. "I've had a busy year with Professor Dumbledore. We went to the Gaunt house to destroy Slytherin's Ring. Melted Slytherin's locket in a bath of acid. Killed your diary with a Basilisk fang back in second year."

Voldemort's face was slowly dropping as the irritant explained how his immortality was threatened.

"I must admit, it was difficult getting Hufflepuff's cup, but a sizable bribe to the Goblins meant that we got it easy enough."

_That's four..._ Voldemort thought, realising that he may have miscalculated his enemy slightly.

"Then, Ravenclaw's diadem. Hiding it in Hogwarts... Really, Tom." Harry tutted, rather enjoying the ashen look on Voldemort's face. "Didn't you wonder where Nagini went in April? She was a tough fight, but me and Albus... more than a match."

_He can't have found the last one..._ Voldemort prayed.

"I'll confess, you had us confused with the last one. We thought you only had seven pieces of soul." Harry continued conversationally. There was no trace of a battle now. Everyone was watching the drama unfold with undisguised awe.

"But, you didn't, did you? You had seven Horcruxes, leaving you eight pieces of soul."

_He knows... how?_

"But, how to extract a piece of your soul from my own?" Harry asked. "That one stumped us. Eventually, I came up with a plan. A very good plan... carried a little risk, I admit."

_§Tell me!§ _Voldemort demanded.

"Since your soul fragment entered mine because of your killing curse, I had to be hit again with the same curse, from the same source." He bowed mockingly to Voldemort. "Thanks to you, I'm free of your taint, and you're mortal." He raised the Sword of Gryffindor with his left hand, and his wand in his right.

Harry knew this was a bad idea, but he just couldn't help himself. "You have been taught how to duel, Tom Riddle?" He asked, his green eyes glowing with power.

"First, we bow to each other." He flicked his wand, bending Voldemort's back, who was too in shock to resist. "Come, Tom, the niceties must be observed... Dumbledore wouldn't want you to forget your manners, would he?"

Voldemort roared in rage as the patronising tone of Harry, as he threw of the body control spell Harry was using. "You think to mock me, boy?"

Harry nodded. "I know I shouldn't, really, but it's just too damn easy, Tom."

"Do not call me by that filthy Muggle name, Potter! I am forever _Lord Voldemort!_"

"You are Tom Marvolo Riddle." Dumbledore shouted. "Last of the Gaunt family, last half-blooded bastard heir of Slytherin."

Harry smirked, before looking up at the Avatar of Light hovering next to him. "Start the ball rolling, Fawkes!" The ancient firebird erupted into song, weakening the dark while raising the spirits of the light. "Let's get it done!" Harry snarled to Voldemort.

Voldemort didn't respond with words, he instead sent a barrage of AKs at Harry, who simply cancelled the levitation spell on his shoes, dropping out of the way. Voldemort followed him down, his wand flickering as he sent AK after AK at Harry.

Harry just flicked the spells aside, knocking them to the left and right with the Sword of Gryffindor. He'd taunted Voldemort to get the man fighting, and he'd roared out of his corner with a heavy barrage. Harry hadn't had the opportunity to fire back his own spell.

* * *

Hermione and Ron restarted their duels with Snape and Malfoy, merely holding them back while they each kept an eye on Harry.

Dumbledore had rescued McGonagall from the Carrows, and managed to bind them, while a group of third years were acting as Jailors, levitating the injured Death Eaters off the field, where they were guarded by half a dozen Order members.

Lupin managed to get close enough to Pettigrew to use his fists. Even though he was a qualified Defence Master, with an impressive record of magic, he wanted nothing more than to get his hands around Pettigrew's neck. Aware that his silver hand was a threat, Lupin had simply hit it with an overpowered _Incendio_, melting the bloody thing off, leaving Pettigrew with a bleeding stump.

"Hello... _old friend_." Lupin spat, tightening his grip on the smaller man's neck with all of his werewolf strength.

"M-Moony..." Pettigrew hissed. "P-P-Please... stop!"

Moony released one hand, noting the calculating look on Wormtail's face, which vanished as the free hand balled into a fist, robbing the traitor of consciousness. "You lose." He said simply, drawing his wand and looking for another enemy to fight.

* * *

Harry was beginning to tire. Waving the Sword of Gryffindor like a baseball bat was slowly draining him of his strength. The series of cracked ribs he'd got when he hit the ground after Voldemort's killing curse had hit were doing him no favours either.

"Is that really all you've got?" Harry shouted, the act nearly robbing him of all breath.

Voldemort stopped casting AKs, before he smiled at Harry, the sight terrifying. "Not at all, Potter." Voldemort hissed in his sibilant voice. "Would you like to see what I can _really_ do?"

And with that, Voldemort let loose the largest barrage of magic Harry had ever seen. Spell-chains, fifteen, twenty spells long erupted towards him. He managed to avoid most of the first chain, apart from a bone-breaking hex that shattered his left leg in three places. With a hiss of pain, he rolled to the side, casting a stasis charm on the damaged section.

_Poppy, I will _never_ question your healing lessons again!_ He swore silently. He stood up, using the Sword to help haul himself to his feet.

"How was that, Potter?" Voldemort asked conversationally.

"Not bad." Harry wheezed. "Maybe a bit more variety would be useful." He waved his wand, sending back his own chain. _Reducto_s, _Stupefy_s and _Incarcerous_ spells erupted from the wand. The first two _Reducto_s hit Voldemort's chest, reducing the bone structure to a wet ruin, which slowly started to heal.

Harry rushed forwards, using his magic to charge the blade in his hand, which started to glow a pure white. He slashed on Voldemort's chest, neck and the tops of his thighs.

The wounds started to close as Voldemort threw a banishing hex at Harry. The spell hit, throwing him thirty feet backwards, before he hit the rough stone wall of the school.

He feel to the ground. _Sweet child of mine..._ Harry's dazed brain slowly rebooted. He took a quick inventory of his body, noting absently the agonising scream of pain from his lower back.

He coughed, feeling something fluid in his mouth. He spat it out, noting absently that it was blood. _Hmm... Internal injuries._ He breathed in, feeling another stab of agony. _Must be my lung._ With Herculean effort, he clambered back to his feet.

"Still alive, Potter?" Voldemort called, sauntering forward casually, looking for all the world like a man strolling through the park.

"Still here, Tom." Harry called back, spitting out another mouthful of blood. "Not going anywhere until you go."

Voldemort threw another series of bone-breakers at him, smiling as he heard the wet cracks of broken bones.

Harry dropped the Sword as the bones in his left arm practically liquefied. He dropped to his knees, hearing the light chuckle of Voldemort. Harry gritted his teeth, using his wand to freeze his arm and leg.

"I must admit, Harry, I've enjoyed this little duel."

"Fuck you and die!" Harry snarled, reaching for the sword again.

Ignoring Voldemort for the moment, Harry placed his wand against the hilt of the sword, noting that the sword absorbed his wand. He used his good hand to pick up the blade, before hauling himself back to his feet.

"You're doing much better than your parents, Harry." Voldemort laughed condescendingly. "They both fell far before this."

"My parents stand with me, Tom." Harry said. "They died for me." He raised the sword, dismissing the agony from his ribs. "What did yours do for you?"

Voldemort's smile vanished from his face instantly. "Do not speak of what you do not understand!" He hissed.

"I understand plenty!" Harry shot back. "Your daddy hated magic, and ran away like a coward, and your mummy embraced her death rather than be with you."

Voldemort sent another AK at Harry, who batted it away weakly with the sword.

"Let's finish this." Harry retorted as he limped forward.

* * *

Dumbledore and McGonagall had made their way over to Ron and Hermione, followed closely by Lupin. These were the five most powerful light-side fighters still actively engaged in the battle.

When Snape and Malfoy saw the two coming, they exercised the better part of cowardice and ran, not wanting to face five extremely powerful opponents.

"The... the giants." McGonagall gasped, severely out of breath after such a strenuous battle.

Remus gave a wry grin at Dumbledore. "Wheel of fire?" He asked, waiting for Dumbledore's nod.

Quickly, the five positioned themselves in a five-pointed star, their wands held in the middle. "We call on the power of all those combined!" Dumbledore intoned.

Each of them began to glow, as the power flowed from their bodies, down their arms, and in the tips of their wands. Dumbledore raised his wand, containing a tip of glowing magic, which he threw towards the giants. As it travelled, it grew bigger, flattening out to become a large spinning disc. It passed through the giants, wounding some with cauterised slices, actually killing others by chopping them in half.

Dumbledore dropped to one knee, feeling the strain of using such a powerful spell. He struggled back to his feet. "Let us see where we are needed." He wheezed.

* * *

Harry fell to the ground again, his left leg shattered beyond uselessness. He felt a wave of cold overcome him. Looking up, he saw three Dementors approaching, directly behind Voldemort.

"Hello, my friends." Voldemort said politely. "Would you care to feed on the boy?"

The first Dementor approached, it's demonic power causing Harry to hear voices in his head.

_"No... take me instead of Harry..."_ The soft voice of Lily Potter filled Harry's brain.

"Expect... Expecto..." Harry tried to raise the Sword, hoping that the ancient blade would augment his Patronus. _No... I will not have my soul sucked out!_ He chanted to himself, channelling all his strength, all his magic, into the mythical sword. "_Expecto... Patronum!_"

Prongs erupted from the blade of the sword, bigger than ever. Without waiting for a command from Harry, Prongs charged towards the Dementors. Instead of simply driving the demons away, Prongs tore into them with his antlers, ripping the beasts apart.

Harry watched, enraptured, as a series of small glowing balls of light rose up unsteadily from the ragged cloak, before rushing towards Prongs. The animal stiffened as they balls merged with him, before his glow changed from a faint silver to a blindingly-bright white. Prongs turned to face Harry, the stag equivalent of a smile on his face.

_Thank you, Harry Potter._ A multitude of voices said in smooth unison. _You have freed us from a living hell. You may ask of us a boon._

"Destroy the Dementors." Harry said firmly, instantly. "All of them."

_It shall be done._ Prongs charged off into battle.

* * *

Dumbledore was duelling some lower-level Death Eater, ducking silly curses and hexes, when he noticed something different approaching the battlefield. It appeared to be an animal, if his memory served, it appeared to be Mr. Potter's Patronus charm, but he'd never seen one so large or bright.

Prongs demolished the Dementors nearest to him, absorbing more and more souls, growing larger. Dumbledore's jaw dropped as he watched the legendary unkillable Dementors being slaughtered like sheep.

"This is new..." He muttered, before resuming his duel.

* * *

Voldemort shrieked with rage as he watched his demonic allies be ripped apart by a single Patronus. The giants had fallen, the werewolves and vampires were being slaughtered by the Order, and too many of his Death Eaters had been captured or killed.

"You have cost me too much, Potter." Voldemort spat, after knocking Harry down with a flesh-liquefaction curse. "It is time for you to die."

Harry spat yet another mouthful of blood, feeling his lung slowly turn into ragged ruin. "Funny, Tom..." He stammered, once more climbing to his feet. "I was about the say the same thing."

"Shall we dance, Harry Potter?" Voldemort asked, raising his wand.

Harry didn't answer. He reached down, deep inside his soul, connecting with his magical core. He pulled every drop of his power, everything that made him Harry Potter, and sent it into the combined blade/wand in his right hand. With a hobble, he charged forwards, intent on finishing this fight.

* * *

Dumbledore watched a small group of surviving Death Eaters huddle together. There appeared to be about a dozen of them, huddled around a branch, which flashed blue. A Portkey. They were trying to leave.

He looked directly into the eyes of his ex-Potions professor, seeing the man sneer at him before he vanished in a trail of light. _Someday, Severus... we shall have a reckoning._

There was a massive explosion behind him. Dumbledore spun round, casting a shield over himself as he looked for the source.

A body flew through the air, hitting the ground with a sickening crack of bone. Dumbledore, McGonagall and Lupin rushed forwards, closely followed by Ron and Hermione, to see the gravely injured Harry Potter lying on the field.

Next to his hand lay his wand, and a pool of liquid silver, with rubies floating in the mass. Next to the pool was another wand, this one Yew, a little bigger than Harry's Holly wand.

Harry's eyes were open, though glazed with pain. "Pro... professor?" He stammered.

"I'm here, Harry." Dumbledore said, not brushing the tears away from his eyes.

"It's... it's done, sir... He's dead..." Harry's eyes fluttered closed, as he exhaled slowly, not moving.

"Rest now, Harry." Hermione said, kneeling next to him, cradling his head in her lap. "You've won... rest now."


	4. After a Messy Fight

**Author's Note: **This is the new, improved version of the chapter, thanks to the chem prof.

**– CHAPTER TWO –**

**_After a Messy Fight_**

**Sunday, 21st June, 1998**

Victory. A costly thing, at the best of times. The casualties from the battle had been relatively light for the Order of the Phoenix. Of course, 'relatively light' did nothing to disguise the pain of losing so many good people. Pomona Sprout, Sturgis Podmore, Deadalus Diggle, Hestia Jones and Kingsley Shacklebolt, good men and women, would never return to their homes or loved ones again.

There were seventeen student deaths, a small percentage out of a school population of almost five hundred, but those seventeen students made Albus Dumbledore want to weep.

The casualties for the Dark Side were truly horrific. Out of the twenty-two giants Voldemort had brought to the encounter, only three lived, all female and seriously injured. Grawp, Hagrid's half-brother, had taken over custody of the three, keeping them shackled to the largest trees in the Forbidden forest.

Almost a thousand vampires had been present in the battle, most of which burned when the sunblock potion had worn off after an intense battle. Unknown to everyone at that time, the thinning of the vampire herd would have repercussions for centuries for the Wizarding world.

The werewolves had also had trouble. With Harry's silver spell, most of them had been infected with silver poisoning, and would not last the night. They had been removed to St. Mungo's for observation, and to see if there was anything that could be done to ease their pain.

The Dementors had been the hardest hit. The destruction of the first few Dementors had meant that the souls they had consumed were freed, and immediately sought out the nearest source of positive energy. Almost fifteen souls had made their way into Harry's Patronus form, granting Prongs his own form of sentience. With the supercharge, Prongs had torn through the Dementors, releasing more and more trapped souls, which joined the gestalt being, before fading into the wind. The encounter had forever stopped Harry forming a Patronus again, but the destruction of virtually every Dementor in the world made the loss well worth it.

The Death Eaters had been beaten soundly. Only a mere handful had escaped, renouncing their marks and loyalty to Voldemort. Even though the mark was still branded into their skin, they'd cut off their connection with Voldemort, meaning that when Harry finally killed him, they hadn't followed him to death.

For the side of light, most people had been injured, broken bones from blasting hexes, slices and contusions from Cutting Curses, and several people would have to be treated for nerve damage from Cruciatus exposure, but overall, there weren't many bad injuries.

* * *

Poppy scowled as she made her way over to His bed, _again_. All the time she had been at Hogwarts, she'd never had to deal with one person so much. Not even when a rash of girls got pregnant towards the end of the last war.

She ran yet another diagnostic scan, watching as the results formed a holographic image, floating about a foot above Harry.

"How is he, Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione asked. She'd been treated for several nasty gashes, and a broken rib, but otherwise escaped relatively unharmed.

The matron scowled as she read the results of the scan. "I don't know how this boy is still alive." She muttered, then spoke louder. "Seventeen of his ribs are broken, he has a puncture in his left lung, his appendix has been ripped in half, he has liver failure, one of his kidneys has nearly been liquefied, his left leg has been broken in six places, his left arm broken in nine places, he has a fractured skull, a concussion, a severe case of magical exhaustion, and he broke a nail."

Hermione snorted at that last injury. She looked over at the matron, who wore a half-grin, half-grimace. "The bones I can heal in a couple of hours, his magic will slowly regenerate, and his internal organs can be repaired by potions. It'll take a couple of days, but he'll be fine."

Both women breathed a sigh of relief that Harry would soon be on the mend. Hermione glanced around the infirmary, idly noting that most of the beds were unoccupied. A couple of people had been sent to St. Mungo's, mainly to repair the Cruciatus nerve damage, but they'd be on their feet soon enough.

Hermione sat by his bed as Pomfrey vanished the bones in Harry's left arm and leg, then poured a large glass of Skele-gro down his throat. Hermione automatically leaned back in her chair as she heard the vile medication seething in it's bottle, almost as though it knew that it was working on Harry Potter, and wanted to be as repulsive as possible.

"Hermione!" A voice called from the Infirmary doors. She looked up to see Ron entering the Infirmary, a large smile on his face. "There you are! Have you got a minute?"

She looked at her fallen friend, resolving to come back as soon as Ron had finished with her. "No problem." She said, standing up.

"Can we take a walk?" Ron asked, looking uncharacteristically nervous. Hermione nodded, and let herself be led away.

* * *

Ron led her to the lake, the two following the path as Ron worked up the courage to ask her whatever it was he wanted to ask her.

"Hermione..." He began tentatively. "We've been friends for a good long while now, right?" Ron asked.

She nodded, wondering where he was going with this. She slowed down as Ron stopped.

"I-I... I've been in love with you for years, Hermione." He said quietly.

Hermione's mind, moving quicker than a nun's first curry, started to piece together certain facts. _He loves me? He's been bickering with me for years? What made him... oh..._ Realisation settled in. _He's been bickering with me as a sign of affection._ She suppressed the urge to laugh. _If I were ten years old, I'd have recognised it as schoolboy flirting._

"I... since the war's over now..." Ron stammered, his face turning bright red. "I..."

_What are you trying to say, Ron?_ Hermione mused. _Eloquence is such an under-rated skill these days._

"I was wondering..."

_I bet Harry would be just as painfully shy._ That brought up a pang of hurt. She'd been trying to get him to notice her for a while, and he'd rebuffed every advance. _If Harry doesn't want me... maybe it's not a bad thing that Ron does. At least _someone_ wants me._

Ron visibly gathered his courage, and blurted, "Hermione, will you go out with me?"

Hermione pondered for a moment, weighing up the different scenarios. Harry was a better match for her... but Harry was completely disinterested. In seven years of close association, she'd never got a hint. Ron, on the other hand, had been dropping hints, according to his juvenile flirting techniques, since Fourth year, and the horrific Yule Ball argument.

Her mind raced through the possibilities of the future with Ron. There'd be arguments, yes... but Ron was a passionate guy. Unfortunately, about nothing she was passionate about, but there was always the chance he could change, and grow.

It wasn't as though he was asking her to marry him, or even commit to something long term. It was just dating. What's the worst that could happen?

Hermione nodded. "Yes, Ron." She said firmly. "Yes, I'll go out with you." She watched as Ron's face erupted into a massive grin. He held out a hand for her to take.

Ron took a deep breath. "I want to kiss you." He said, puckering up and leaning in closely. Hermione's mind automatically flicked back to Ron's snog-fest on the common room sofas with Lavender as he closed in.

**Monday, 29th June, 1998**

He was floating in the blackness of oblivion. _I am so bored._ He thought casually. _What the bloody hell happened?_

He looked around for anything that could help him. With a small click, everything fell into place. _I am Harry Potter... Voldemort attacked! We beat him... is everyone all right?_ In the distance, he saw a pinprick of bright white light. He'd been knocked unconscious enough to recognise the signs of returning to consciousness.

_Isn't it sad that I know that?_ He mused as he suddenly rushed forward, his mind reconnecting to his bodily senses.

_Smell? Ah, the lovely sterility of the hospital wing._ He chuckled silently. _There's a smell I could happily never have to breath in again. _He opened his eyes, wincing at the bright light reflecting off the white walls. _I wonder who decided that everything should be a bright white in a medical facility. Wouldn't it make sense to have nice, soothing pastels?_ He shook his head. _Jesus, I'm getting maudlin in my old age._

He took stock of his body, recognising the itching sensation on his left side as being the after-effects of Skele-gro. _Must have been bad if I needed to have bone regeneration._ With a muted squeak, he climbed out of the bed, grabbing his wand from the bedside table, waving it over his pyjamas to turn them into a casual robe.

He conjured a pair of sandals to cover his feet, and ambled out of the hospital wing.

* * *

He made his way straight to the kitchens with a double purpose. The first, and most pressing one, was to get something to eat. Even though nutrient potions in the Wizarding world provided everything the body needed, it was no compensation for proper food. The house elves would be able to lay out plenty of food for him.

The second purpose was far more sombre. He needed to see Winky, to tell her how her mate had died in the battle against Voldemort's forces.

With a sigh, he reached up and tickled the pear, watching as it giggled for a moment, before becoming a handle. He pressed it down, hearing the click as the door lock released itself, and entered the kitchen. Dozens of house elves were scurrying around in front of him, reminding him for a moment of an ant farm he'd seen as a kid. He cleared his throat, garnering the attention of the nearest elf.

"Is Winky available, please?" Harry asked politely. The elf stared at him for a moment, before squeaking and dashing away.

_I do hope this isn't the reaction I'll get everywhere I go..._ He thought, waiting as another elf brought over a large cup of tea and a plate of shortbread. The elf bowed to him for several moments, before dashing away.

"Yous wanted to see Winky, sir?" a tired voice came from his knee. Harry looked down to see a visibly distraught Winky, dressed in ragged clothes and clutching a bottle of Butterbeer like it was the only thing keeping her alive.

Harry knelt down, putting himself chest to nose with the tiny creature. "Are you okay, Winky?"

The elf stared at him for a moment before bursting into tears. Without thinking about what he was doing, Harry wrapped Winky in a hug, offering his presence in whatever capacity could comfort her. To his surprise, Winky wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him with all her strength.

"I know, Winky..." Harry whispered. "I miss him, too. He saved my life, you know..."

Winky pulled back slightly, looking up at Harry. "Dobby... Dobby saves Master Harry?"

He nodded. "A Death Eater called Dolohov was coming towards me. He fired a flame-cutter spell at me. Dobby jumped in front of me, saving my life. He's a true hero." He sniffed, his eyes becoming moist. "I'll never forget the little guy."

Winky sobbed, burying her head into Harry's chest.

"What happened to his body?" Harry whispered. Winky burbled something into his chest, indecipherable against the cloth. Harry pulled back, looking at Winky's tear-strewn face.

"Winky said Dobby's body vanished, Master Harry Potter sir. Body sent to the great beyond."

_Oh, bugger._ Harry thought idly. _I suppose if Dobby can't call me that anymore, it's appropriate that Winky takes up the banner._

Harry stood up, pulling the elf onto the table next to him. She was still clutching her Butterbeer. "Elves of Hogwarts!" He called loudly. Every elf in the kitchen stopped working and looked at the human. "I'd like to propose a toast to Dobby! One of the finest elves to ever exist!"

There was a mad scatter as the elves quickly opened more Butterbeer, pouring themselves a thimble-sized glass. Winky stood proudly next to him, holding her bottle in the air.

"To Dobby!" The assembled elves roared, tossing back their shots of Butterbeer like troopers.

"May he enjoy his next great adventure." Harry said in conclusion, taking a large swig of his tea.

* * *

Suitably fed, and after turning down a record thirteen attempts at being given desert, Harry made his way up to the Great Hall. He noticed a number of students dashing about, looks of pure panic on his face. Without thinking, Harry raised his wand, casting a glamour on himself as he made his way into the Great Hall.

As he approached, he saw a group of people crowded into the doorway. The group was a mixture of Order members, students and school teachers. Harry leaned against the door, secretly enjoying seeing everyone panic. "What's up?" He called over.

Hermione answered from the middle of the crowd. "Harry Potter's gone missing from the Hospital Wing!" She near-cried. "We need to find him!"

She turned, and began issuing orders to the students around her. With an eye-roll, Harry dispelled the glamour, watching, amused, as no-one noticed that their quarry was in the bloody room with them.

"Okay, is everyone clear on where they need to go?" Hermione asked bossily.

"I'm not." Harry said. "Where would you like me to go?"

She looked up, exasperation on her face; _why can't people just follow simple instructions?_ She came eye-to-eye with Harry. "Harry! Where the hell've you been?" She demanded.

Harry held up his hands. "I just went to the kitchens. I woke up, and I was hungry."

Dumbledore cleared his throat from behind Harry. "You should have waited, my boy."

"For what?" Harry asked, his tone growing cooler.

"It was not safe for you to leave the hospital wing without an escort."

Harry swore in Chinese for almost thirty seconds, before he looked up at Dumbledore. "Voldemort's," pause for flinching, "dead, his army destroyed, and the Death Eaters have been killed or captured. Exactly what do I have to be afraid of, Headmaster?"

"There is no need to take that tone with me, Harry. I'm only concerned about your safety." Dumbledore said sternly. "Speaking of which, I need to speak to you about what your plans are now that you're about to graduate."

Harry's mind started sounding warning bells at this, but he nodded slightly. "Continue."

"I was thinking that the best course of action is for you to return to the Dursleys during the summer months, Harry. Just until we are sure all of the Death Eaters have been captured, tried and sentenced."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "How about... no?" He said, turning his back on the old man. He came face to face with Hermione. "How are you?" He asked tenderly.

She smiled warmly at him. "I'm doing good, Harry." She said, wrapping him in a tight hug. "I only got a couple of minor injuries during the battle. How are you feeling?"

He just shrugged. "I feel fine. Bit of a tingle in my left arm, 'spect I had to have Skele-gro."

Hermione nodded. "You did. Vile stuff. I could smell it across the Hospital wing." She bit on her bottom lip for a moment, driving Harry to distraction. "There was something else I need to tell you, Harry. Do you have a minute?"

* * *

The two made their way back up to the Gryffindor common room, and then into the Heads' common room. Hermione disappeared into Harry's bedroom for a moment, coming back with his Pensieve. She placed it down on the coffee table, extracting a memory from her head. "Watch this for me, Harry." She said tentatively. "Then we'll talk."

Harry, oddly intrigued by this, stuck his head into the bowl. When his body suddenly went still, as his mind was engaged in the Pensieve, Hermione started to wring her hands, extremely nervous with the possible reactions from her best friend.

It took approximately twelve minutes for Harry's world to come crashing down. For a moment, he felt an irrational surge of hatred towards his 'best' friend, but quickly stamped it down. He leaned back on the couch, his eyes closed, building up an Occlumency wall in his mind, using it to temper his emotions.

He opened his eyes, seeing Hermione sitting on the edge of the couch, idly playing with her fingers. She watched him, unable to see anything in his face or eyes.

"Congratulations." Harry said politely, using all his control to make sure his real feelings were not being displayed on his face. "I wasn't aware that you and Ron were dating."

Hermione took a deep breath, relieved that Harry seemed to be okay with this newest revelation. "Well... we weren't previously." She said. "I mean, Ron's been attracted to me since Fourth year, according to him. He just never managed to get up the courage to speak to me about it."

_Indeed._ Harry pondered, not looking away from Hermione's chocolate-brown eyes. _That would be when he saw you at the Yule Ball, and became jealous that you weren't with him._ "I see." Harry said simply.

"Are you okay with this, Harry?" Hermione asked softly, staring deeply into Harry's eyes.

_No, I'm fucking not!_ Harry's mind raged. He was spared from answering by the portrait hole opening, and the two youngest Weasleys making their way into the room.

Ron stood up slightly straighter when he saw Harry. "Hey, mate!" He said, holding out his hand. Harry shook it robotically for a moment, before dropping it. "It's great to see you up and about." Ron glanced over at Hermione, who was looking nervous, and shooting glances at her new boyfriend. Ron quickly figured out her silent message. "Ah, I see Hermione told you the great news!"

_Is that what you call it?_ Harry mused sadly. _I call it 'heart-wrenching agony and despair', myself, but, you know... to each his own._ "Yes, she was just telling me. Congratulations."

"Thanks." Ron said, plopping himself down on the couch next to Hermione. Without bothering to check, he grabbed Hermione in a smothering kiss, forcing Harry to turn away. He came face to face with Ginny, who was staring at him with longing on her face.

"How're you feeling, Harry?" She asked.

Harry noted the longing expression, and pushed down his revulsion. "I'm feeling a lot better, Ginny." He said politely. "Thank you for asking. Are you okay?"

She nodded, grinning widely at him. "I'm good. Wasn't wounded at all in the battle." The sounds of lips smacking made Harry's lips curl slightly in disgust. Ginny noted this. "Would you like to take a walk, Harry?"

_Oh, god, anything to get away from this torture!_ He stood up sharply, almost running towards the door. "Sure!" He said in passing as he escaped.

* * *

Ginny led him to the lake, before she sat down on a large rock. She patted next to her, gesturing that Harry should sit down. He complied, but made sure there was a good three feet of space between them.

"So, Harry..." Ginny said, looking at him with lust shining in her eyes.

"What's up, Ginny?" Harry asked curtly.

"Well... now that You-Know-Who's been defeated..." She started, trailing off coyly.

_Dear god, does this girl ever get to the point?_ He wondered, keeping silent. It was something he'd learned during his Occlumency lessons with both Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore. If you keep silent during a conversation, chances are the other person will become uncomfortable enough to fill the silence. It was a great tactic when interrogating Death Eaters, the lower-ranking ones, anyway, since most of them were too dumb to recognise it as a tactic.

Ginny coughed uncomfortably. "Well... you've not really dated during your time here at Hogwarts." She said, looking down at her shoes.

_No... you've done enough dating for the two of us._ Harry thought idly. _Actually, you've done enough dating for half a dozen of us._ "That's true."

"I-I was thinking," Ginny smiled winningly at him. It made Harry's stomach lurch.

_This is all I need today. I find out that Ron's made his move on the one girl I love, who accepted with absolutely no hesitation, and now his annoying kid sister's trying to make a move on me._ He glanced up at the sky. _Sirius, this has your fingerprints all over it._ "Yes?"

"Well... I really would like to go out with you, Harry." Ginny said softly. "I think it'd be good for both of us. You're going to need a date to take to all the Ministry balls that are coming up. There'll be celebrations for your victory soon, you know?"

_Oh hell no!_ Harry screamed inside his mind. _I am not going to be the Ministry's poster boy, and I'm not going to silly bloody dances just to show off._ "I doubt I'll be attending those functions, Ginny." He said politely. "I'm not really interested in dating at the moment."

Ginny took a deep breath, leaning back slightly to accentuate her chest. "Harry, you've won! And you've denied yourself female company for far too long."

_For a reason, you silly little girl!_ "I still have no interest in dating, Ginny." He stood up, clearing the dust from the rock of his pants. "Thank you for the offer, though." He started to walk away, not noticing the scowl on Ginny's face.

* * *

The ceremony for the graduating class was due to be held on Saturday, 4th July. This gave Harry just under a week to ponder his next move. He had no intention of returning to Durzkaban, and his plan of going to one of the Potter properties would be blocked by Dumbledore wanting to keep him safe. He couldn't fault the old man, really, but after a hell of a battle, the prospect of being kept under house arrest wasn't really appealing.

He'd recovered his wand from Dumbledore, along with a souvenir: Voldemort's wand. The Sword of Gryffindor had been destroyed in the Final Battle, the ancient blade not able to handle the immense power Harry had forced through it. As much as he tried, Harry couldn't bring himself to listen to Dumbledore's minor bitching about the loss of a priceless historical artefact. As far as Harry was concerned, it was a weapon forged for war, and met it's end in battle.

_But... what happens now?_ He mused. He thought back to his friends. Hermione had been scarce during the last few days, Ron keeping her busy until all hours as he finished up a few last minute assignments, plus innumerable walks around the lakes, picnics and not-so-discrete sessions in the broom closets.

Ginny had continued her pursuit of him, popping up at times where he couldn't easily escape. Twice in the library, where he was reading up on Wizarding property laws, and five times in the Great Hall during meals. Harry's day went from bad to worse when he came across Ron and Hermione during breakfast on Thursday.

"Hey, mate!" Ron said around a mouthful of bacon.

Harry turned away in disgust, not wanting to see fried pig flesh being masticated. "Ron, swallow before you speak, please." He said wearily. "It's really not attractive, you know."

Hermione, sat next to Ron, nodded absently in agreement, her nose buried in some musty tome.

"Guess what, Harry?" Ron said, after an exaggerated swallow.

"Do you wanna give me a hint, Ron," Harry replied sarcastically, "or should I start at the Chudley Cannons and work my way down?"

Hermione glanced up from her book for a moment, grinning at Harry, before she went back to her reading. Ron just stared at him, trying to work through what he'd said. "What? Have you heard something about the Cannons?"

_Lord, give me strength._ Harry mused, burying his face in his hands. "What did you want me to guess about, Ron?" He asked through his fingers.

"Oh, Mum's coming up to school today." He said, filling his mouth with an entire sausage.

_Ooh, there's a rumour. 'Ronald Weasley, one of the heroes of Hogwarts, chases sausage!'_ _Can just see selling that to the Prophet! _He sighed. _While it would be funny, it wouldn't be fair to Hermione._ "Okay." He said, looking at Ron with confusion. "Uh... Ron?"

"Yes?" Ron asked through a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

"Urgh." Harry muttered, looking away. He waited a moment before looking back. "I'm curious, Ron. Why tell _me_ that your mum's coming to school."

Ron drained his glass of Pumpkin juice, _Pumpkin juice for breakfast? That boy's got issues,_ before looking up. "She wanted to talk to me about my dating Hermione, and she said she needed to talk to you about something."

_Oh, please, not about dating Ginny!_ He thought with despair, before marshalling his face back under control. "Okay, man. I'll keep it mind."

* * *

"Harry, dear!" came the loud voice of Mrs. Weasley, as she tackled him in a bear hug. "How are you?"

_Oh, bloody marvellous. Ron's 'smother'._ "I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley." Harry replied, squeaking slightly as she cut off the circulation to his lungs. "Picture of health and harmony." _Or, I _was_ until you tried to re-break my ribs._

She released him, not bothering to catch him as he slumped to the floor for a moment, before hauling himself back to his feet.

"Now, dear," Mrs. Weasley began, completely unaware of his intestinal distress, "I was wanting to speak to you about Ronald and Hermione."

"Yes?" Harry asked, his tone cooling noticeably.

"Ronald told me that he's finally asked her out. Isn't it wonderful news? I've been waiting for this for so long!" Molly gushed. She didn't notice the momentary look of agony and despair on Harry's face, before it was stamped out, and replaced with a mask of neutrality. "After I heard all those silly stories by Rita Skeeter in your fourth year... Well, they were just ridiculous, weren't they? You've never been interested in Hermione, have you?"

"No." Harry replied, his voice going from 'cool' to 'cold'.

"Yes, I'm glad to hear that those rumours were false." Molly said, not noticing his tone.

_Yes... the one time I could day dream about Hermione becoming mine, and you just dismiss it. I swear, God hates me. He does. He delights in torturing me. I know it. _"Okay." Harry said simply.

"Now, dear, tell me about your love life." Molly began, sitting down in the armchair.

_And why the hell would I want to do that?_ Harry thought indignantly. "It's, uh... it's not something I'm really comfortable talking about, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, posh, Harry." Molly said, her mouth forming into a wide smile. "Both Ron and Ginny said that you haven't been dating while you've been at school. Isn't it time you started? I mean, a man of your station should have an appropriate mate."

_'An appropriate mate'? Which bloody century is this woman living in?_ "Mrs. Weasley, with the greatest possible respect, this is not a conversation I want to have with you." He saw her winding up for a mother-class rant. "With anyone, really. My dating life is exactly that. _Mine_."

Molly was not to be dissuaded, though. "But, Harry dear, you must see! A man of your stature, Head of two Ancient and Noble houses, needs to have an heir as soon as possible. It's to be expected."

"'To be expected', Mrs. Weasley? Expected by who?" _And why the hell is it your concern anyway?_

"By everyone, Harry." Molly said airily. "It's simply the way of things."

"Ah." Harry said. "And I assume that you have some candidates in mind for my new bride?" _My entire family fortune that she says Ginny._

Molly smiled winningly. "Well, dear, you've always gotten on well with Ginny. I know she's single, and has been wanting to date you ever since I told her the story of the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. Coming from a pureblood family like ours, she'd be a very good match for you." Molly decided to add the 'icing on the cake'. "Not to mention, she has red hair. The Potter love of red haired girls is famous."

_No, it isn't. The Potter love of intelligent women is famous. It's just sad that the last four brainy birds have all been reds._ "I'll... uh... I'll keep it in mind, Mrs. Weasley." Harry said politely. "However, at the moment, my priorities are locating a new place to live after Hogwarts lets out next week, and looking at my options for employment."

"Oh, you can always come and stay at the Burrow, Harry, you know that." Molly offered.

_And let you and your daughter have 24 hour access? I bloody well think not._ Another thought occurred to him. _Not to mention Ron and Hermione will be there._ "I appreciate that, Mrs. Weasley, I do. But I've been imposing on your family for almost six years now. I think it's time I got a place of my own. Something I can call home."

Molly began to realise that Harry wasn't completely sold on the idea yet, so decided to add a little push. "Well, Harry, once you and Ginny marry, you may be staying at the Burrow for a while." She smiled charmingly. "You know we'd love to have you there."

A loud klaxon started sounding in Harry's mind at the word 'marry'. "Mrs. Weasley... at no point have I agreed to marry Ginny. At no point have I agreed to _date_ Ginny. I have said, several times, I'm not interested in dating."

"Oh, Harry." Molly said, waving her hand dismissively. "You can't avoid it, you know. It's fate for you and my Ginny to be together."

_Yeah... you can keep thinking that. I, however, have been Fate's bitch against Voldemort. She can sod off if she thinks she's intervening in anything else in my life._ "I've gotta go, Mrs. Weasley." Harry said diplomatically. "Got that thing to do at that place. Can't be late." He turned and headed for the door, deciding to see if humans really could travel faster than light.

Molly watched him go, and worked her way through the conversation she'd just had. As far as she was concerned, it had gone very well. She'd planted the seeds for Harry's wedding to Ginny, and Ron and Hermione were well on the way. She'd have her 'One Big Happy Weasley Family' yet. She stood, heading for the door. She needed to have a word with Ginny...

* * *

Harry's escape took him to the Owlery, where he spent a couple of hours with Hedwig. He'd been neglecting his familiar over the last couple of days; granted, being unconscious would do that, but he decided to make it up to her. Without Hedwig's help in the Final Battle, the outcome could have been wildly different.

"Hey there, girl. You okay?" Hedwig fluttered down from the rafters, landing gently on his arm. She hooted softly at him.

"Yeah, I know. I had to wake up first, though, you know?" Hedwig hooted mournfully. "No, I'm fine, now. Everything's healed up. Are you okay?" A short, happy hoot. "Good. Glad to hear it."

Harry looked around the Owlery. "You gonna be okay leaving here, Hed'? It's been your proper home for the last seven years." Harry's voice dropped low. "Mine, too."

Hedwig nudged Harry's cheek slightly with her head, before hooting loudly. "I know we'll get a proper home. That's not the issue. As long as we're together, right?" Hedwig hooted sadly. "Of course we'll be together! You wanna take a walk with me?"

Hedwig jumped from his arm to his shoulder, before gripping with her talons. "Let's go."

* * *

The walk took the pair through Hogwarts, before heading out to the lake. They were halfway there when Harry spotted Ron and Hermione having _another_ picnic. Harry saw Hermione look up and wave over to him, but he saw Ron's scowl, and headed towards the Forbidden Forest.

* * *

Hermione watched Harry turn away, and felt a pang of sadness. She'd not spoken to her best friend since she'd revealed her new dating status to him, and was near despair; Harry had been with her for her entire time at Hogwarts, with the exception of that brief blip during Third Year when she'd handed his broom in to Professor McGonagall. Even then, it had been Ron keeping the Trio apart.

She shook her head, diverting her attention back to her new boyfriend.

* * *

Friday had come round with an agonising slowness. The week had _dragged_. Ginny had been stalking Harry with a will that would have made an army of assassins weep with shame. Harry had taken to hiding in the Chamber of Secrets, the boys toilets in the dungeons, and other places Ginny didn't know about.

It seemed to Harry that Molly had been preparing her daughter to be the new Lady Potter/Lady Black, a position Harry had no intention of letting her fill.

_Thank god it's the end of school tomorrow._ He thought casually. Hedwig seemed to sense his thought, perched again on his shoulder. With the exception of toilet breaks, Hedwig had not left his shoulder all week. As funny as it would have been sending Hedwig to attack Ginny, it wasn't really justifiable. _Yet. If she keeps coming after me, Hed' can have her._

Harry had finally come up with a plan. He'd decided to spend a bit of time at a Muggle hotel, courtesy of the Goblins, who had suites in every major hotel in Europe, before finding himself a permanent place to live. He'd even managed to get the Goblins to make him a Portkey to the lobby of the bank, to be activated at his own request.

He'd planned to leave just after receiving his graduation certificate. It was fortunate for him that the Head Boy and Head Girl didn't give their speeches until after the certificates were handed out. His musings were interrupted by a new arrival.

"Hey, mate!" Ron's hated voice came filtering across his ears. Over the last five days, Ron had gone from Harry's best mate, to an acquaintance who constantly bragged about having a girlfriend while Harry was single.

"Ron." Harry retorted simply. "What's up?"

"Have you seen Hermione, mate?" Ron asked, grinning smugly.

_What, since the five minutes since you probably saw her, bastard?_ "No, mate. Haven't really spoken to Hermione since Monday. She's been spending most of her time with you."

"Has she?" Ron asked, still wearing that bloody shit-eating grin. "I hadn't noticed."

_Lies._ Harry thought viciously. "Well, I'd love to stay and chat, Ron," _More lies, but hey..._ "but I need to go and pack."

"Ah, yes. The end of school tomorrow. I wasn't sure we'd all make it."

_Too many people didn't._ Harry thought softly. "Yeah..."

"Are you looking forward to Sunday?" Ron asked, rubbing his hands together in glee.

"Not really." Harry replied. _A bloody awards ceremony. An Order of Merlin, 1st class. Just the thing for killing someone._

"It'll be great, Harry!" Ron said. "We're all famous!"

"For killing someone, Ron. I hardly think that's worth a bloody medal."

"Harry," Ron said patronisingly, as though speaking to a particularly stupid young child, "we saved the Wizarding world from the threat of You-Know-Who. Don't you think we deserve medals?"

Harry said nothing, just walked away. His packing wouldn't do itself.

* * *

Graduation Day. The day that the seventh year class left Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as fully qualified witches and wizards, and began their new lives in the real world.

Or in the case of Ron Weasley, run back to the Burrow and sponge off his parents for a bit. Harry sat in the front row of the students, dressed in full robes, and wearing the irritating stupid little pointed hat that he'd managed to avoid since first year.

Hermione was sat next to him, with Ron on her other side. She leaned close to Harry. "Stop fiddling with your bloody hat, will you?"

"It itches!" Harry hissed back. "Stupid bloody thing."

"Leave it!" Hermione commanded sharply, smiling at him when he let his hands drop. "While we're waiting, I wanted to ask you about something."

"Shoot." Harry whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

"Remember when we were talking? Just before Voldemort attacked?"

Harry nodded, feeling his hackles rising. "I remember." He whispered slowly.

"What were you trying to ask me about?" Hermione tilted her head slightly, so she could glance between him and Professor Dumbledore on the stage.

"It doesn't matter anymore, Hermione." Harry whispered mournfully. "It's already sorted." He stood up as Dumbledore started calling names, wanting them all to line up to collect their certificates. After everyone had taken theirs and sat down again, Dumbledore headed back to the podium.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Seven years you've been here. Seven years. And what years they have been, eh? You've probably been here during the most interesting seven years in the ten century history of this school. You've seen a defeated enemy rise up, greater and more terrible than before, and seen him smited less than two weeks ago by one of our own. And now, you have completed your journey through these hallowed halls, and move into the world beyond.

"During my end of year speeches, I joke about how you take the summer holidays to empty your heads of everything that you have learnt during the year, but I hope that you all retain the valuable knowledge you've gained during your time here. I hope that you go on to become productive members of society."

Dumbledore reached under the podium, pulling out a glass of water, which he took a small drink of. "Now, we have two further speeches for you, those of the Head Boy and Girl. Mr. Potter?"

Harry stood up, making his way over to the podium. During his walk, he tapped his pockets, making sure his shrunken trunk and wand were safely in his pockets. As soon as he arrived at the podium, he heard the flapping of wings, as Hedwig landed on his shoulder. "Well... where do I start?"

* * *

Ginny sat in the audience, near the back of the Great Hall, next to her mother. Thanks to their combined efforts, she was well on the way to snagging Harry, and becoming Lady Potter. Oh, the things she would be able to accomplish with access to the greatest fortune in the Wizarding world. She'd be able to purchase all the new, expensive clothes, a fine manor house, host the greatest parties ever seen.

Of course, she wouldn't need to be selfish with her newfound wealth. No, she'd be able to help her parents out, fixing and upgrading the Burrow, making sure her parents had every conceivable comfort.

She would also make sure Ron and Hermione were looked after, provided Ron apologised to her for all the mean things he'd done to her over the years. And if Hermione apologised for keeping _her_ Harry busy with school work rather than dating her, like he should have been. Then, she wouldn't hoard _her_ fortune, she'd spread _her_ wealth to the people she deemed worthy. Yes, it would be grand.

* * *

Harry conjured his own glass of water, taking a sip. "Well... where do I start? Hmm... Seven years ago, to the day, I knew absolutely nothing about the Wizarding world. All I knew was that I was an orphan, living with relatives who hated magic.

"Then a gentle giant appeared, and told me about a world that seemed impossible. A world of unicorns, dragons, goblins and magic. A world containing wonders more incredible than I could possibly imagine... and terrors to freeze my soul. A world where I belonged."

He took another sip of his water. "When I first came here, I was astounded by the opportunities magic would have provided me. The ability to ensnare the senses, and bewitch the mind. The ability to brew glory, bottle fame, and even put a stopper... in death. But, there was the down side. Wraiths, basilisks, Dementors, Horcruxes... the list goes on and on.

"Without the support of my best friends, I wouldn't be standing here now. The death of Voldemort has removed the blight of this country, allowing everyone the opportunity to move forward, become all that they can be."

Hedwig hooted mournfully, loudly, as she shifted restlessly on Harry's shoulder. Harry absently reached up and petted her.

"Now, though... I find myself like Moses." He noted the confused looks. "I'll explain. In the Muggle Bible, which is one of the principal religious works, a man named Moses leads his people across the desert to the Promised Land. He makes sure that they get there safely, as I have done during the last seven years. I've made sure that Voldemort has gone. The 'Promised Land' for the Wizarding world is upon us all."

He sighed, before swallowing nervously. His left hand slipped into his pocket, bringing out a small ball. The Goblin Portkey. "And like Moses, I find that I cannot enter this 'Promised Land' with you. The 'Boy-Who-Lived' is a relic, a product of the Second War." He took another drink of his water. "My time at Hogwarts has been the best of my life, and I thank you all for that. But... it's time for me to go." He winced as Hedwig gripped a little tighter on his shoulder.

He raised the small ball that was his Portkey. His next words would activate it. He'd deliberately picked something that he wouldn't say in normal conversation. "Goodbye." He stared at Hermione. "One to beam aboard." He vanished in a blaze of colour.

**Saturday, 21st June, 2003**

The White Knight re-entered his hidden command base, code-named 'the Board'. He passed through the standard security features, requiring a command code into a console, along with a Knight-spoken password. He passed through the air-lock, waiting for it to pressurise, before he entered the second level, requiring a fingerprint scan, a retina scan, and his actual voice to speak a password.

He pulled off his cowl, scowling as he felt naked and unprotected without the thick rubber covering his face.

He passed through security, flipping his cowl from hand to hand as he moved through the weapons room into the den. There was another soul here, someone who'd been helping him ever since he'd begun his quote 'damned fool crusade' unquote.

She looked up, standing before dropping to her knees in an elaborate bow. "My Lord Knight. You have returned."

Knight chuckled, holding out his hand. "Hello, Minion."

Said-Minion looked up, a pair of bright silver eyes looking directly at his. "Master. Did you accomplish your mission?"

He nodded, chuckling. "I did. That's one pawn down, another seven to go. Everything okay here, Minion?"

"Fine." The minion replied, rolling her eyes. "Can I have the memories of the event? Need to write up my article."

Knight nodded, plucking his wand from inside his gauntlet, raising it to his temple to draw out the silvery strands, before dropping it into a rune-covered bowl on the side-table. "That's it. Make sure you mention I only attacked the Aurors 'cause they started it."

"'They started it'?" The girl replied. "How old are you, Knight? We're not exactly ten anymore. 'They started it' only works in the playground."

Knight said nothing, just scowled at her.

"You know that face doesn't do anything to me, My Lord."

"Knock it off, Luna." Knight replied, sounding annoyed. "I've never gone for all that 'My Lord' or 'Master' bollocks. Don't even like it when the house elves do it."

Speaking of House Elves... "Master Harry!" A tiny voice squeaked. "You're back!"

Knight grimaced. "Winky, how many times have I asked you not to call me 'Master'?"

Winky paused for a moment. "Four thousand, six hundred and eighteen, Master Harry." The little elf replied shamelessly. "'Tis not proper for a House Elf to not call Master 'Master'."

"I hate you sometimes, Winky." Knight replied, scowling at the tiny creature.

"Master Harry Potter sir not hate his Winky." Luna replied, smiling warmly at the pair, quoting the late Dobby.

"Haven't you got anything better to do than torment me?" Knight asked.

Luna, unrepentant, stood up. "Yes, I suppose I do." She said, stretching out her muscles. "Must go and write my article. I assume standard protections in place?"

Knight nodded. "I have absolutely no interest in the world knowing that the White Knight is Harry Potter. They think I'm dead. Let them."

"You'll have to come clean sooner or later, Harry." Luna said. "You can't hide from the things you've done forever."

Knight just flipped her the bird. "I can hide long enough. Once the mission's complete, it won't matter anymore."

"The mission." Winky scowled, placing tiny fists on tiny hips. "Yous is killing yourself, Master. Yous need help."

"I've been dead for five years, Winky." Knight replied seriously. "Soon as the rest of the relics are gone, I'll be happy to die properly." He slipped his cowl back on, locking it in place. Ignoring the two females, he walked over to the Ops table, where a giant chessboard was in place. He picked up the twelve inch statue that represented Selwynn, before he broke off the head.

"White Knight takes black pawn." He repeated, glancing at the next pawn. "Mr. Travers... you're next. Prepare to meet the White Knight."


	5. Plots

**Author's Note: **This is the new, improved version of the chapter, thanks to the chem prof.

**– CHAPTER THREE –**

**_Plots_**

**Monday, 6th July, 1998**

Ginny Weasley had had a simply dreadful weekend. First, her soon-to-be husband had left early during the Graduation ceremony, without telling her where he was going. Then, she'd had to endure a queen-sized rant from Molly, for not telling her that Harry would be leaving so suddenly.

_How dare he do this to me!_ She fumed silently. He'd robbed her of the vast fortunes of the Potter family. The fact that she had no claim to the Potter fortunes, and had never even seen them, never entered her mind. She felt the loss as intently as if Harry had physically stolen the money.

_How do I recover from this? How do I reassert my claim?_ She slumped onto her bed to ponder.

* * *

Ron Weasley was not tremendously concerned when Harry disappeared during the Graduation ceremony. He'd just figured that he wanted a bit of peace and quiet, and would be back for the Awards Ceremony the following day.

Of course, everyone looked like a bit of a tit when Harry didn't turn up, and no-one knew where he'd gone. Scrimgeour had come up to Ron and Hermione, wanting to find out where Harry had gone, and hadn't been overly pleased when neither of them could answer the question. Hermione had gotten into a bit of a tussle, which Ron had sorted out, as well as his career plans. So far, he wasn't having a bad weekend...

* * *

Hermione felt betrayed, saddened, and so very lonely. She'd returned to her parents' house after the Awards ceremony, wanting to spend a bit of time reconnecting to her parents after a very stressful year. Of course, she'd soon be spending a bit of time at the Burrow with her new... boyfriend. Even now, it still felt strange to think of Ron as her boyfriend. If she was honest with herself, and Hermione made sure she was _always_ honest with herself, she'd only ever really pictured Harry in that role.

And then he'd gone.

The return to her house had been coloured slightly by a 'conversation' with Ron, shortly before they left Hogwarts;

_"What? You're not coming back to the Burrow with me?" Ron looked truly baffled. He couldn't understand her._

_"Ron, I'd like spend some time with my parents." Hermione replied gently. "I've not seen them for the last ten months. I've spent almost every day here with you."_

_"You want to go and spend time with _Muggles_?" Ron asked with distaste. "You should just come to the Burrow."_

_"Ronald, they are my _parents_, not just 'Muggles'."_

_Ron just waved his hand dismissively. "Hermione, you're my girlfriend, which surely means that you'll listen to me when I offer suggestions." He didn't notice her raised eyebrow. "You should just forget spending time with the Muggles, and come to us." He snorted. "I can't understand why you'd want to spend time with Muggles instead of with me."_

_"Because they're my _parents_, Ron!" Hermione retorted loudly. "What part of that don't you understand?"_

_"I understand everything." Ron replied, not looking bothered by her raised voice. "But they're still just Muggles."_

_"And what am I, Ron?" Hermione asked. "I'm a Muggleborn, which means that anyone who's interested in a relationship with me will have to accept that my parents are Muggles."_

_"Hermione, just forget them. Come home with me, and we'll forget all about this silly argument."_

_"No, Ron." Hermione said firmly. "I'm going to see my parents. I'll owl you when I'm ready to come to the Burrow."_

_Ron swallowed back a retort. He'd been waiting for the opportunity to date Hermione ever since he'd seen her at the Yule Ball, looking absolutely _stunning._ He plastered a look of contrition on his face. "Hermione, I'm sorry. I don't mean to belittle your parents. Really, I don't. It's just... I'm eager to spend more time with you. I've wanted to date you for years, and now that you've given me the privilege of being your boyfriend, I just don't want to be apart from you."_

_Hermione softened, slightly. "I can understand that, Ron. And I appreciate your... eagerness. However, I haven't seen my parents in ten months. I need to spend some time with them. How would you feel if I told you that you had to come and stay at my place without seeing any of your family?"_

I really wouldn't have a problem with that._Ron thought. _Except for staying in a _Muggle_ house. _He sighed heavily. "I know... I'm sorry, baby." He gave her a hug. "I'll do better. I'll send Pig on to you as soon as I get back to the Burrow, so you can owl me, okay?"_

_She nodded. "Okay, Ron." She pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, and stepped back. Ron walked away, leaving her alone. _Would Harry have been like this? Just demanding I come with him?_ She shook her head. _Get it together, Granger. Harry didn't care. He just left, remember?_ Another voice, that bloody annoying one that spoke up when she didn't want it to, added it's two pence worth. _**Ah, but why did he leave?** **He must have had a reason. **But, why didn't he share it with me? For seven years, I've been there for him, and when I need his support, he just ups and vanishes! **You don't have all the information. Don't rush into things. That's how we got into trouble with Harry in third year? We made an assumption, and it nearly lost us our friendship. Find out more, first. **I hate it when I'm right.

Hermione pulled herself back to the present. _Why? Why would Harry just leave like that... without telling me?_ That thought kept bouncing through her mind. She'd dredged her memory, trying to find out when things had changed. The nearest she could remember was just before the Final Battle, when she and Harry were talking. Then, they'd been called into action, and he spent a week unconscious in the hospital wing.

When he woke up, he'd been different. Sombre. Not exactly unexpected after taking Voldemort's life. But, he'd been more withdrawn. Every time she was out with Ron, Harry avoided them. Was he simply being considerate, making sure that her and her new boyfriend had time together, without a third wheel? Or was is something else?

She didn't know, and the prospect of not knowing something irked her considerably. She had no choice in the matter. She'd have to find Harry, and sit on him until he told her everything.

_So... how do I find him?_

* * *

Dumbledore was also in a state, but not for the reasons the rest of Harry's friends were. They were concerned about his mental well-being. Albus was concerned with his safety. He'd portkeyed out of Hogwarts with nary a word to anyone.

_Harry... you must come back to us, so that we can protect you._ That was Dumbledore's biggest fear: the few remaining Death Eaters, including his ex-friend Severus Snape, would be after Harry for killing their master. Without the protection of the Order, Harry would be killed within days.

One thing was certain, with everyone: No-one knew where Harry had gone. No-one knew _why_ Harry had gone. And no-one knew how to get in touch with him.

* * *

Ginny Weasley, soon to be Lady Ginevra Potter, was making plans. She would not let Harry rob her of the lifestyle she had decided was to be hers. So, she'd come up with an ingenious plan to ensure that everything went smoothly; all she needed was a little bit of help from someone who wouldn't ask questions. And she'd already picked her target.

She made her way along Diagon Alley, looking for the retarded Neanderthal who was the target. As expected, she found him loitering outside Borgin and Burkes.

"Vinny... I need a favour from you..."

**

* * *

**

Friday, 31st July, 1998

It was a muted assemblage at the Burrow on this Friday evening. The remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix had gathered with the Weasley family and Hermione.

Bill was there, but was on his own. Shortly after his wedding to Fleur, she'd raced out of the Burrow, refusing to step foot into it again. Bill had followed her and found out her reasons, which he agreed with, but wanted to show some solidarity with his family for his almost-little brother. Fleur had understood, and gave her blessing on his presence, but refused to go herself.

The group had assembled, hoping that Harry would make an appearance to celebrate his 18th birthday with them. Even though that particular birthday held no significance in the Wizarding world, it did in the Muggle world, and Harry had spent most of his life with Muggles.

A pile of gifts littered one end of the table, causing Fred and George to eye the brightly wrapped parcels with mischievous glee, knowing there was plenty of opportunity for pranks to be played on the birthday boy. If he ever bloody turned up.

After waiting for several hours, people began deciding that he wasn't coming, and started to prepare to leave. Ginny decided it was the perfect time to drop her little bombshell.

"It's a shame he's not coming." She sniffed, a few tears at the corners of her eyes. "I had some very good news for him."

Molly looked up, hoping that her wishes for one big, happy Weasley family would be coming to fruition. "Oh?" She asked, staring at her daughter.

Ginny just help up a scrap of parchment. "Yes... I got the results from St. Mungo's this morning. Harry's gonna be a daddy."

You could have heard a pin drop in the Burrow for almost ten seconds; surely a record in a Weasley household. Molly was the first to start, offering her congratulations, and wondering when her and Harry had gotten together.

Hermione was the smartest witch of her generation, and one of the smartest in the history of Hogwarts, second only to the mighty Lily Evans. However, when the news about Harry's unborn child reached her ears, her intelligence dropped, and she became irrational.

_It would explain why he's not answered any of the letters that I've sent him._ She thought. _And if he knew early, it might explain why he suddenly left. **You're not thinking again.**_ The annoying voice in her mind spoke up. **_You're making assumptions, based on little to no data. _**_He shagged Ginny! That bloody conversation we had on the day of the Final Battle was a lie! **You don't know that.**_ The voice replied. **_You're making assumptions, _again_. Harry has never lied to us. _**_He's kept things from us before.** True, but keeping some things back and lying are very different things. He told us that he's never dated. **Maybe he just shagged her. **The Harry we know would **_**never _just shag someone._**_ Maybe he's not the Harry that I thought I knew._

That comment silenced the little voice. One thing was certain; it was even more imperative that she get in touch with Harry Potter.

* * *

Molly had sent a letter to Harry shortly after the announcement was made. Errol returned it to the Burrow a day later, the poor decrepit owl looking like it had flown all over the country.

Not to be deterred, Molly prepared a howler, using the new enhancement charm (Now 200 louder!) before sending it off with Pigwidgeon, letting the ancient Errol have a rest.

* * *

"_Harry James Potter! Where are you, young man? Ginny has just told us the news about her baby, and you're nowhere to be found? I'm thrilled to hear this, Harry. I knew what you were telling me about not wanting to date Ginny was just smoke. Now, you need to drop by the Burrow as soon as possible. We have a wedding to plan, and I'd like your input. Get in touch as soon as possible! We need to have the wedding before Ginny starts to show!_"

A young man, sitting on the bed of a Muggle hotel room pondered on the contents of the note. "Huh..."

* * *

A bright-white Snowy Owl entered the Burrow a day later, quickly gathering the attention of all nine Weasleys and Hermione. Molly took the small package from Hedwig, who departed before anyone could cast a tracking charm on her.

Molly opened the package, revealing a small glass ball, similar to a Remembrall. Not understanding, Arthur reached into the packaging, plucking out a short note written in Harry's chicken-scratch.

"According to the note," Arthur said a few moments later, "the ball's called a 'Comm-orb', used for two-way communication."

"Well... what do we do with it?" Molly asked, gently placing the ball onto the table.

Arthur kept reading. "'Place it onto the floor and tap it with your wand'." He quoted, watching Bill take the ball and do as the note instructed. The ball filled with a pale silver light for a moment, before an image of Harry Potter filled the Burrow.

"_You wanted to speak to me?_" The orb commented.

"Is that you, Harry?" Molly asked.

"_Yes. This is a live communication feed, not a recording._" Harry said. "_Now, what can I do for the Weasley family?_"

"Harry, we have a lot of planning to do for your wedding." Molly said. "We really need to get started. How soon can you get here?"

"_My wedding, Mrs. Weasley? I don't understand. Exactly _who_ am I supposed to be marrying?_"

Molly looked confused. "Well... Ginny, of course."

"_Ah._" The image of Harry looked vaguely bemused. "_Do you not remember a few weeks ago at Hogwarts, Mrs. Weasley? When I told you that I had _no_ intention of marrying Ginny? I wasn't just 'blowing smoke', as you called it. I really do have no intention of marrying your daughter._"

"What?" the Weasleys chorused.

"_I told you, I have no interest in dating your daughter. Exactly why would I suddenly marry her?_"

"Because of the baby, Harry!" Molly said. "Your child."

"_I'm oddly curious about that._" Harry said. "_I'd have thought that I'd remember putting a child inside Ginny._"

"Enough of this foolishness." Molly said. "It's your duty and responsibility to marry Ginny now, Harry."

"_I've done my duty and responsibility, Mrs. Weasley. More than enough. Why should I do this?_"

"Harry, mate." Ron said, stepping forward. "Stop being silly. We know about you and Ginny, now. Why hide it?"

"_Hide _what_, Ron? What exactly do you think is going on between me and Ginny?_"

"Well... you're dating her, obviously." Ron said. "And if you've gotten her pregnant, then you need to do the stand-up thing and marry her." He turned to his brothers. "Right?"

They all agreed, even Arthur.

"_Well, I hate to disillusion you all, but it's not gonna happen._"

Arthur cleared his throat. "Let me clarify things here, Harry. You're telling the Head of the Weasley family that you will not marry my daughter, even though she is pregnant."

"_That's exactly what I'm telling you, Mr. Weasley._"

"Harry, please reconsider this. You've always been a responsible lad. Why aren't you facing up to your responsibilities in this matter?"

"_Oh, I am. And I will not marry your daughter._"

"You leave me little choice, here, Harry."

"_We all have choices, Mr. Weasley._" Harry replied, smiling gently at the older man. "_I'm choosing to do what is right, not what is easy._"

"Then I must also choose to do what is right, Harry." He straightened in his chair. "Harry James Potter, as the Head of the Weasley Family, I declare a Blood Feud against the House of Potter and Harry James Potter in particular. Our blood feud is against the act of impregnating my daughter and refusing a marriage offer. So mote it be."

The hologram of Harry just shrugged. "_It's fine by me, Weasleys, but I'll tell you this; at the moment, you can't find me, and I will only step up to my own responsibilities._"

"How can you, Harry?" Ginny asked tearfully. "There's no need to hide it anymore, my love. Why are you fighting this?"

Harry just stared at her for a moment, before looking at the faces of the rest of the Weasleys. Arthur; resigned, but determined to do the right thing, at least as he saw it. Molly; barely-contained fury at Harry's childish refusal to stand up to his duty. Bill; angry. Charlie; angry. Percy; angry. Fred and George; angry. Ron; furious. Ginny; sad. He obstinately refused to look at Hermione, bypassing her without so much as a glance. Since this was officially a Potter/Weasley matter, Hermione would not be involved.

He glanced back at Ginny, smirking and winking. "Well, Ginny... it's been fun, but don't worry... I'm looking forward to the encore." He flipped the bird to the Weasleys, before the comm-orb melted into a puddle of glass, the hologram blinking from view.

Ron instantly turned to Hermione. "Why didn't you help me? You're my girlfriend! Surely when we find out our best mate's got my sister pregnant, and is then refusing to marry her, I would have thought you'd be backing us up!"

Hermione just looked up at Ron coolly. "Ron, I'm not gonna get involved in this situation. To be rather blunt, I am not a Weasley or a Potter, and have no say in this matter. It's strictly a family dispute. Plus, I refuse to take sides without having all of the information. You know me well enough by know, Ron."

Ron huffed for a few moments, before releasing an explosive sigh. "I know. I'm sorry, Hermione. It's just... it's so frustrating! How could he do this? How could he... you know, with Ginny, and then lie about it? He's changed... and not for the better."

_I know..._ Hermione thought to herself, filtering out Ron's next few words. _This is making less and less sense. **We still don't have all of the information. Don't leap to conclusions.** He didn't deny it. He never said that he hadn't shagged Ginny. **He did say that he thought he'd remember putting a baby in Ginny. That leads to only two conclusions. **Yes... he either doesn't remember, in which case his actions are understandable, or she's lying. **Much as I hate to admit it, there is a third possibility. **Harry's the one who's lying. **We need more data.**_Her ears pricked up when she heard the Weasleys talking about money.

"...then we'll claim it for the baby." Molly said.

"I'm sorry, what?" Hermione asked.

Molly smiled at her daughter-in-law-to-be. "I was just saying, dear, that if Harry won't accept his responsibility, then we must take steps ourselves to ensure that the baby is provided for."

Hermione's eyebrow shot up. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that, Mrs. Weasley?"

"We'll go before the Wizengamot, and to Gringotts. Since Ginny's carrying the Potter heir, they'll have no choice but to grant her access to the money to care for the baby."

Ron shot to his feet, and was outside the door before anyone could ask what he was doing. As soon as he reached the border of the wards, he Disapparated away.

* * *

Goblins always creeped Ron out. He wasn't phobic about them, oh no. It was just... they were creepy little buggers. They always had a scheming look on their face, and a twinkle in their eyes that convinced Ron they were about to eat him.

He strode into the bank, heading straight for the counter. He tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the old witch in front of him to conclude whatever minor business she had. When she _finally_ finished, Ron stepped forward importantly, puffing out his chest.

"What?" The Goblin snapped.

"I'm here to claim Harry Potter's vaults." Ron said pompously.

The Goblin snorted, before chuckling, then escalating into full-blown laughter. It took over a minute for the Goblin to get himself under control. He wiped the tears of mirth from his eyes, before staring at Ron with a steely gaze. "And who do you think you are to claim another's vaults?"

"I'm Ron Weasley, sister to the girl who's carrying Harry's heir."

The goblin just raised an eyebrow, as he motioned for Ron to continue.

"Ginny's my sister, and Harry's refusing to marry her for some reason. I'm claiming his vaults so that the baby will be raised properly."

The Goblin raised a hand, indicating that Ron should stay there, while he vanished into one of the offices. Barely thirty seconds later, the teller was back at his post.

"No." The Goblin said simply, before scratching a note on a piece of parchment, and looked over Ron's shoulder. "Next!"

"Now, wait a minute!" Ron snapped. "We're not done here!" He huffed for a moment. "Now, why are you denying my rightful claim to Potter's vaults?"

The goblin just stared down it's nose at him. "You do not have a rightful claim, Mr. Weasley. Only the mother of the heir would be able to make a claim."

Ron nodded. "I can go and get her. Be back here in a half hour."

The goblin gave a rusty chuckle. "And you turn up with your pregnant sister, and we just give the largest fortune in the Wizarding world to you? I think not. We require proof, Mr. Weasley."

Ron turned on his heel, muttering about the untrustworthy goblins as he stormed out of the bank.

* * *

His return to the Burrow and subsequent conversation with the family shocked them all, bar Hermione. She'd read up on Goblin procedures, and knew that they wouldn't just hand over the keys to somebody walking in off the street.

"So, we go before the Wizengamot." Molly concluded. "Once there, we'll get Albus to approve the wedding and the claiming of the vaults. Then we can make sure that Ginny's baby is properly cared for."

Hermione watched the scene with cool detachment. _This is not right. There's something... off about this whole situation... Ron, Ginny and Molly seem far too eager to just whiz ahead and believe Harry guilty. **So are you.** It would explain why he never publicly dated. Hell, she's been into him for years. Maybe he was just banging her on the side. **Do we really believe that? **It would explain a great many things._

She leant back in her chair, pondering the situation. **_The first question is: would Harry lie to us?_**_ Normally, I'd say 'no', but right now, I'm not sure. **Without that information, further speculation is useless. **The only thing I know for sure is; I need to speak to Harry. **Do we have any idea why he left?** No, and that's something else that's getting right on my tits. Along with his refusal to answer any of my letters. **Don't assume. Assumption is the mother of all fuck-ups. **I swear, when I find him, I'm gonna rip his nuts off and spoon-feed them to him._

She stood and left the room, not wanting to get involved, even though this would probably start another argument with Ron. _Where are you, Harry? Why won't you talk to me?_

* * *

It didn't take long for the Weasleys to get their way. They'd gone straight to Dumbledore and explained the situation. Dumbledore was only too happy to help the Weasleys, since that meant he'd have access to Harry again, and that was something that was needed.

"Don't worry, Molly." Dumbledore said in his best 'I-know-everything-and-I'm-always-right' tone. "I'll called for the Wizengamot to assemble first thing in the morning. I will send Fawkes with a missive to Harry, so that he attends."

Molly nodded, pleased that everything was going so well.

* * *

Harry had moved hotels twice since receiving the first letter. Thanks to the goblins, who owned the penthouse suites in every major hotel in Britain, he had been able to maintain a lifestyle of comfort while waiting. However, things had changed slightly, when Fawkes had turned up in his hotel room, bearing a note from Dumbledore.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_This message is an official summons to a Wizengamot hearing with regards to the claiming of the Potter vaults by the Weasley family. The complaint is regarding your impregnation of Ginevra Weasley, and refusal to honour the marriage request made by the Head of the Weasley family._

_The hearing will be held on Monday, 3rd August, 1998, at 9am in courtroom 5 of the Ministry of Magic building._

_Failure to attend the hearing will result in the claim automatically being awarded to the Weasleys. In this circumstance, all Potter assets and funds will be awarded to Ginevra Weasley, and a marriage contract will be entered into. If the contract is not honoured, you will be stripped of your magic, and banished from the Wizarding world forever._

_Kind Regards,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,_

_Order of Merlin (First Class)_

_Grand Sorcerer,_

_Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards_

_Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot_

_Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Harry read the note casually, noting the rather nasty threats contained within. He almost laughed when he saw the list of titles Dumbledore claimed.

_So... if I don't turn up and marry Ginny, my money, titles and power will be given to the Weasleys, I'll lose my magic, and be banished. Well... I don't mind _one_ of those, but I'll be damned if the Weasleys are getting their hands on the Potter/Black fortunes, and I sure as hell am not having my powers taken away._

He quickly scribbled a reply, announcing that he would communicate with them at the appropriate time. At no point in his letter did he actually say that he would be present, just that he would communicate.

"Hedwig?" He called out. Less than a minute later, his familiar entered the room, hooting sternly at him. "What? It's not a lie. So, tomorrow morning... you'll need to deliver this package to courtroom 5."

The owl hooted for a moment, concerned. "Oh, come on! Are you telling me you can't get into one of the most heavily warded buildings in the country undetected?"

Hedwig pecked him sharply for questioning her abilities.

"Ouch! Okay, I'm sorry... Can you deliver it at 9am?" The icy glare he got was message enough. "Okay, I'm sorry. Jeez, Hed'... I thought I was asking something difficult of you."

Hedwig hooted again for a moment, followed by a repetitive barking noise; her equivalent of laughter.

* * *

The Weasleys had assembled in courtroom 5, eager to locate Potter. Since declaring the blood feud, they pretty much had free reign of controlling Potter. Under the old laws, they could even use the Imperius curse to force Harry to marry Ginevra, allowing her access to the Potter fortune. Of course, since Hermione was not a part of either of the families involved, she was not able to be present for the hearing, something that irked her considerably.

Dumbledore had also made his way there early, although for a slightly different reason. He needed to see Harry so that he could move him to a secure location. There had been a few Death Eaters that had escaped from the Final Battle, and those minions would be eager to kill Harry. He wasn't trying to manipulate the boy; no, he just wanted to make sure he was safe.

As the bell tolled for 9 o'clock, the doors opened. Instead of the bespectacled wizard they were expecting to see, a snowy-white owl entered the courtroom, a package clutched in her talons. With the natural grace of a bird-of-prey, she soared over the crowd, who had assembled after hearing that the gathering had to do with Potter, and dropped the package at the judge's seat, where Dumbledore sat.

With a heavy sigh, Dumbledore opened the package, revealing a clear glass ball. He read the note, then levitated the ball to the floor in front of the podium. He whispered instructions to one of the aides, who rushed down and tapped the orb with her wand.

The hologram rose up, revealing a Harry Potter, clad in his finest family robes.

"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore began sternly, "why are you not present?"

"_Oh, but I am._" Harry replied. "_The summons that you sent send I had to attend the hearing, but it did not specify my physically being there. Since this is not a recording, but a live communication, it falls under the classification of 'attendance'._"

"Semantics!" Ron snarled. "This is a farce! Our claim should be awarded to us now since he didn't turn up!"

Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly, glaring at Ron. "Mr. Weasley, he is correct that the summons did not state a physical presence." He turned to the orb. "Now, Mr. Potter... are you aware of why you have been summoned?"

"_Of course, Chief Warlock._" The hologram replied. "_The hearing is about how I impregnated Ginevra Weasley, and have failed to accept her family's request for marriage._"

"Indeed." Dumbledore said. "And why have you not stepped up to your responsibilities, Mr. Potter?"

"_Because they're not _my_ responsibilities, Chief Warlock. I have not engaged in sexual relations with Miss Weasley, nor do I ever intend to engage in sexual relations with her. Whoever the father of that child is, it isn't me. As such, I have no intention of marrying Miss Weasley, nor do I intend to let her access my family fortunes for her own gains._"

"You're lying!" Molly shrieked. "If my daughter stated that you're the father, then you're the father. My Ginny's a good girl, and wouldn't lie about something like this!"

"_You may believe what you wish, Mrs. Weasley. However, the motivations of your daughter in attempting to ensnare me in marriage is not my concern. My concern is that these manipulations could have lasting repercussions on the Potter family. I made it clear to both you and Miss Weasley that I had no intention of dating her. When I left Hogwarts, I was unattached and a virgin. My current status is unchanged._"

"Why are you doing this, Harry?" Ginny asked, a tear trickling down her face. "My love, why do you deny me? Is it to keep me safe? We know that You-Know-Who's been defeated. We can get married now and raise our child."

"_A masterful performance, Miss Weasley._" Harry replied, looking utterly nonplussed. "_But, as I said, my status has not changed. To be frank, your lies to your family are the reason I am not there in person today. Because your father has declared a blood feud, you would be able to force me to marry you, not to mention giving you access to my vaults. Since that baby is not mine, I will not allow this._"

"Mr. Potter." Dumbledore interjected. "What proof can you offer that this baby is not yours, other than your word?"

The hologram smirked. "_What proof can Miss Weasley offer that the baby _is_ mine, other than her word?_"

Dumbledore nodded slowly. It was certainly a valid point... He turned to the Weasleys. "Do you have a suggestion as to how to proceed in this matter?"

Arthur was about to speak, when his wife stood up. "Yes, I do." She glared at the hologram of Harry. "This young man will marry Ginevra immediately. He is obviously lying. As his wife, she will be able to access the Potter fortune to pay for the baby that he obviously doesn't care about. If he's unwilling to marry Ginevra, thus defaming her good name, the Potter fortune should be awarded to her, so that the baby can be raised in a satisfactory manner. He should then have his powers bound, and be banished from this world forever, his name forgotten."

Dumbledore made a couple of notes on the parchment in front of him, then turned to the hologram. "And your suggestions, Mr. Potter?"

"_Since I know that I've never had relations with Miss Weasley, I believe that I shouldn't have to do anything._" He saw Molly winding up for another rant. "_However, in a gesture of goodwill to this court, I will offer the following: when the baby is born, I will submit to a paternity test. If... _if_ it can be proven by at least five different healers that I am the father of this child, I will award the entire Black family fortune to the Weasley family, and the Potter fortune to Miss Weasley. I will also willingly have my powers bound and be exiled from the Wizarding community forever. However, _when_ it's proven that Miss Weasley is lying, I will determine the appropriate penalties then._"

"Unacceptable!" Molly snapped. "We all know you're lying, Potter! After everything my family has done for you, you have the nerve to suggest that my daughter is lying! I won't have it!" She turned to Dumbledore. "Albus, I demand that he be brought here, and the wedding happen this instant! I also demand that his vaults be turned over to Ginny at once!"

"_Not gonna happen._" Harry replied. "_The goblins will never allow it. And should I point out everything that I've done for your family?_"

"Mr. Potter, please refrain from speaking out of turn." Dumbledore said sharply. "Now, in this instance, Mr. Potter's suggestion is the more reasonable one. Since there is no evidence to support either claim, I agree to a 'watch-and-wait' stance with regards to the situation."

"Unacce-" Molly was interrupted.

"Silence!" Dumbledore roared, making everyone cower, bar Harry. "Do not speak out of turn, Mrs. Weasley!" He snapped. He breathed deeply for a couple of moments, getting his anger under control. "Now, as I was saying... Since divorce is not possible in the Magical community, apart from infidelity, forcing an innocent Mr. Potter to marry Miss Weasley is not the best action we could take."

"Are you suggesting my daughter is lying, Albus?" Molly said icily.

Dumbledore glared at Molly, making the woman sit down meekly. "I did not suggest that anybody is lying, Mrs. Weasley. However, the judgement of this court is impartial, and I will not play favourites."

"_Thank you, Chief Warlock._"

"Now, forcing marriage is not the issue. The court supports Mr. Potter's suggestion; that we wait until the child is born, and then find out the father. If Miss Weasley is telling the truth, the Potter estate will become hers, and the Black estate will be awarded to the Weasley family. If Miss Weasley is lying, then Mr. Potter will be able to choose his penalty at that time."

"What about Ginny's reputation, Albus?" Arthur asked timidly. "She will have a child born out of wedlock."

"At the moment, I am less interested in reputations and more interested in justice, Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore rebuked. "As all of us should be."

Molly glared at her husband. "Arthur, you can't agree with this! What about poor Ginny? Her reputation will be in the mud because of the actions of that boy!" She turned to Dumbledore. "I demand that you take action, Albus!"

"You 'demand', Mrs. Weasley?" Dumbledore said dangerously. "You have no right to demand anything of this court. I will not stand for tantrums and posturing. I am here so that justice may be ensured." He turned towards the hologram, dismissing the matriarch. "Mr. Potter, I accept your suggestion. However, I will demand that the goblins freeze your assets until such time as the paternity test can be performed."

"_I'm afraid that will not be possible, Chief Warlock._" Harry said politely.

Dumbledore's tone grew colder. "And why is that, Mr. Potter?"

"_Because I have to eat, Chief Warlock. I have to pay rent for my living accommodations. The general cost of living._" He pondered for a moment. "_I will instruct the goblins to limit my withdrawals and transfers to 20 galleons a week. Is that acceptable?_"

"Yes." Dumbledore said. "That is acceptable." He glanced at the Weasleys. "However, since the Weasleys have already declared their penalties should your claim be proven false, I believe it would be appropriate at this juncture to state what penalties you will enact."

The hologram vanished for a moment, as Harry walked away. It took almost a minute for him to reappear. In his hands were a piece of parchment. "_I've had a quick think, Chief Warlock. _When_ Miss Weasley's claims are proven false, the penalties will be as follows: Miss Weasley will have her powers permanently suppressed; she will never be able to wield magic again._"

Molly shrieked her protest, but Harry ignored her and carried on. "_Once her powers have been bound, she will be exiled to the Muggle world, with full knowledge of the Wizarding world that she will never return to. Her family will have no further contact with her. Ever. The baby, if found to be magical, will also have any powers bound, and will never be able to access the Wizarding world._" He glared at Ginny. "_After all, that's what you want to happen to me, Miss Weasley. One of us,_" he pointed at her, "_is clearly lying in court, and that is unacceptable._"

He glanced over at the Weasleys, noting their look of horror at the thought of never being able to contact Ginny again. It was Ginny, however, who appeared the most entertaining. She'd turned white, the sort of shiny white you can only get with Daz, as the thought of what could, and _would_ happen to her.

"_Yes... I believe that exiling you to the Muggle world as a bitter single-parent squib is appropriate punishment for your feeble deceptions._" He blinked, and smirked at her. "_It's plain to see that you're a Gryffindor; you'd never have made it in Slytherin with piss-poor planning like this._"

Ginny's jaw dropped as everything sank it. She gathered her resolve. "Harry... I don't understand why you're doing this... please, tell me. Did I upset you in some way?"

Harry's hologram roared with laughter. "_I could call in the life-debt that you owe me, Miss Weasley. I could force you to tell the truth... but to be honest, I think this way will prove more entertaining._"

Dumbledore cleared his throat, bringing the meeting back to order before it could degenerate into petty name calling. "Then that is what we shall do." He turned to the Weasleys. "When the baby is born, we shall re-gather, and perform the appropriate paternity tests. Until such time, the bulk of the Potter/Black fortunes shall be contained at Gringotts, allowing Mr. Potter a small budget to live on."

"No!" Ron roared. "This is not good enough! I demand that Potter be brought here, marries Ginny, and we get Potter's money!"

"_Do you?_" Harry sounded amused. "_So... you don't care about your sister, do you? You just want access to my money, Ron?_" He shook his head, giving a mock-sad look. "_Seven years of friendship, Ron... and you're throwing it all away because of your jealousy and greed._"

"I'm not the one who shagged my sister and then wouldn't face up to it!" Ron spat, clambering to his feet and stalking over to stand just in front of the hologram.

"_Neither am I, Weasley._" The hologram leaned closer, so Harry's nose was inches from Ron's face. "_Why can I spell sperm on your breath, Weasley? Have you been naughty?_"

Ron roared with anger, and tried to punch Harry, only to find his fist sailing harmlessly through the projected light.

"_Temper temper, Mr. Weasley._" Harry mocked.

"That is enough!" Dumbledore shouted loudly. "Weasley family, our course of action has been determined. You are dismissed until the birth of your child, Miss Weasley. Once you give birth, we shall assemble then. Until such time, you are not to bother Mr. Potter." The Weasleys, grumbling loudly, stood up, and ambled out of the courtroom. Ron gave Harry's hologram one last glare, before he stepped out.

The crowd, composed primary of the press, had shot out of the doors, each one eager to be the first to release this juicy bit of gossip. The rest of the Wizengamot filed out, the aides and scribes departing back to their offices to write up their reports.

The court was empty, save for one owl, one old man, and a hologram.

"Harry." Dumbledore didn't know what to say to his protégé.

"_Albus._" Harry replied, his voice and face emotionless.

"Good to see you."

"_And you. Same as ever._" Harry replied, keeping the mask in place.

Dumbledore just watched Harry for a few moments, hoping that he could make the young man uncomfortable enough to break the ice. Harry didn't respond, just kept staring. "Why did you leave, Harry? You abandoned us." Dumbledore asked after almost two minutes.

"_Did I?_" Harry asked nonchalantly. "_Busy life. Moving on._"

"When will you come back?"

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. "_Twelfth of never, Albus. No reason to come back._"

"What about your friends? They miss you."

"_If you say so._"

"What happened with Miss Weasley, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, his tone weary. "Why would you do this?"

Harry stiffened, a flash of anger in his eyes, which was quickly squashed down. "_I didn't do a damned thing with her, Albus. That girl does nothing for me. I don't know who got her pregnant, but it wasn't me._"

"She says you did."

"_She's lying._"

"Why did you not attend in person, Harry? What could have driven you away from us?"

"_If I attended in person, the Weasleys would have tried to use the Imperius curse to force me to marry Ginny. And as to what drove me away? Well... that's not really your concern._"

"I... you need to come back, Harry, so that we can protect you. There are still Death Eaters out there."

"_I know._" Harry said simply. "_And what do you suggest, exactly?_"

"Returning to the Dursleys, as I suggested while you were still at Hogwarts, would make sure that they could not harm you." Dumbledore looked apprehensive. "I must insist, Harry. I have only your safety and security in mind."

"_And what good is security without freedom, Albus?_"

"Freedom? Harry, by making sure you are safe and secure, we ensure that freedom."

"_No... you favour freedom over security. People who trade freedom for security deserve neither. That is what you have done to me for the last sixteen years, Albus. I have no desire to be in anybody's hands but my own._"

"My dear boy... you make it sound like I have been manipulating you..."

"_Be honest with yourself, Albus... haven't you?_" Harry waved off Dumbledore's instinctive protests. "_Did you not give me little nudges while I was at school? Explaining what the Mirror of Erised does, before you used it to guard the Philosopher's Stone? Making sure Hermione had a time-turner, just at the moment when it could be used to save Sirius? Those 'little nudges', Albus._"

"How can you suggest that..." Albus trailed off as he thought about the past seven years. "Have I... why... Merlin, Harry... I'm sorry..."

"_Don't worry about it, Albus._" Harry replied. "_Like I said, it's done. But, I won't just entrust myself to other people. I won't be controlled._"

"I... I understand, Harry." Dumbledore replied slowly. "What happens now?"

"_Nothing. I've got stuff I need to get on with. When Ginny drops her sprog, we'll talk. Until then, I'll be incommunicado._"

Dumbledore nodded as the hologram flickered and vanished, before the sphere melted into a small puddle of slag in the middle of the floor. With a loud hoot, Hedwig sailed out of the open door before vanishing.

* * *

In the Weasley ancestral home, Ginny Weasley was shitting broken glass (1). She knew the truth about the baby growing inside her. She didn't have any particular feelings for it. It was simply a means to an end. However, if Harry went through with his plan, those ends would mean the rest of her life as a squib, forbidden contact with the Wizarding world.

_That_ couldn't be allowed to happen. She needed to find a way to get Harry to marry her, before the baby was born. If she could find a way...

She reached for a roll of parchment, intent on writing a suitably impressive love letter to Harry.

_Dearest Harry,_

_I'd like to invite you to the Burrow to discuss this ugly situation that we now find ourselves involved in. We can have dinner, and sort out this mess._

_I don't understand your reluctance towards me, Harry. We both know that you will need an appropriate wife as the last scion of an Ancient and Noble house, and as a young, attractive pureblood witch, I will surely be suitable._

_Once we wed, we'll be able to put all this foolishness behind us, and we'll be able to have a family, Harry. I know that's what you want. A family of your own._

_Please respond soon,_

_Ginny Weasley (nee Potter)_

**

* * *

**

Saturday, 21st June, 2003

"Ronald, I'd like a word with you, please." Hermione's tone was cool to the point of glacial.

Ron, recognising that tone after nearly twelve years of knowing his wife, stifled a groan. "Yes, dear?" He asked, using his most ingratiating tone, hoping he could stave off _yet another _rant.

"You gave a very good speech today." Hermione said, keeping her face under control.

_What? She's not gonna shout at me?_ Ron pondered in delight. _This must be my lucky day!_ "Thank you, honey."

"However... I found a few words in there... how should I put this... complete _bullshit!_" She shrieked the last word, making Ron wince. "_You_ defeated Voldemort?" As usual, Ron flinched whenever he heard his wife utter that hated word. "Newsflash, Ron: _you_ did not defeat Voldemort. _I_ did not defeat Voldemort. _Harry_ defeated Voldemort, completely on his own. Not to mention destroying the Dementors _single-handedly!_ How can you say 'without Harry's support'? Are you delusional?"

Ron's temper flared. "And where is he, hey? He ran off! And all that shit with Ginny afterwards! The people need someone to look up to, and Hero Harry Bloody Potter's too fucking scared to face up to his responsibility!"

Hermione stared at him for a couple of moments, making him squirm. When she spoke, her voice was cold and hard. "Ronald Weasley... in case you forgot, _you_ are one of the reasons that Harry left after that disaster with Ginevra. _Your_ ego. _Your_ arrogance. _Your_ bloody temper. And don't get me started on my 'occasional input', or you'll find your 'input' dries up!"

"How would I notice the difference?" Ron hissed, incensed that his wife would question his word. "I'm gonna go out for a bit. You stay here, and just think about what the duties of a wife should be!" Ron plucked his wand from it's holster, spinning on his heel and disapparating.

_How the hell did it come to this?_ Hermione asked, slumping into a chair and wishing that Crookshanks was here to comfort her. Unfortunately, Ron had forbidden the part-Kneazle to live with them, and she'd had no choice but to leave him with her parents.

It was times like this she really wished she hadn't lost contact with her best friend. All the times she'd tried to write to him, the letters returned to her, unopened. She'd not spoken to him since he left Hogwarts back in 1998. Even now, five years later, she sometimes found herself seeing something interesting, and making a note to tell Harry, only to remember moments later than he'd gone. She'd long since given up hope of actually getting in touch with him, but just went through the motions. _When I next see you, Harry... we're gonna have a _lot_ to talk about._

* * *

Knight, to Luna's delight, had prepared dinner for the three beings at the Board. It was to Luna's delight since Winky couldn't cook Chinese food to save her life, and Luna was a take-out junkie.

"So, Harry..." Luna said around a mouthful of chow mien, "what happens now?"

"Swallow, Luna." Knight reproved her.

"You know I don't swing that way, Harry." Luna shot back, grinning at him. Knight and Winky rolled their eyes as one.

"You've turned into a right smutty little thing, haven't you?" Knight asked, smiling at her to remove the sting from his words.

"You're just jealous 'cause I pick up better women than you." Luna replied, sticking her tongue out at him. Quicker than she could react, Knight had hold of her tongue between his fingers. She snapped with her teeth, before licking his palm.

"Ack! Luna!" Knight shouted, grabbing his napkin before trying to scrub the skin of his hand off. "Of course you pick up better women than me. I'm celibate, remember?"

"You really should tell her, you know." Luna said in the silence that followed. Winky nodded vigorously.

"She's married." Knight replied simply, his tone cold, telling them, in no uncertain terms, to leave that particular topic alone. He turned to Winky. "Have you got that information about Travers?"

Winky clicked her fingers, a small PDA appeared in her hand, which she passed over to Knight. "It's all on thises, Master Harry. Alls information available."

Knight tapped the PDA, flicking through the data quickly. "Hmm." He tapped the screen, reading something more in-depth. "Oh, you must be bloody joking!"

"Found out about that gay club he goes to, huh?" Luna asked, winking at Winky. "Yes, it took a while to get that data."

Knight looked up. "And how many times did you have to go back to the club to find that out?"

"Thirty-one." Winky replied, staring at Luna with a vaguely disappointed air.

"And how many times did you cop off while tailing our murderous little friend?" Knight asked, now grinning at her.

"Thirty-two." Luna replied, not looking at all ashamed.

"Threesome?" Knight asked, watching her grin and nod. "You dirty little girl, you!"

"When will you go for him?" Luna asked.

Knight quickly checked the PDA. "You say that he generally goes on Tuesdays and Fridays, yeah?" Luna nodded. "So, in two days, we'll see what Mr. Travers thinks about a little chat with the White Knight."

* * *

(1) This is not literal. The phrase "shitting broken glass" is another way of saying "panicking heavily" or "sweating bullets". I just think it's a cool phrase.


	6. Temporary Author's Note

**NOT AN NEW CHAPTER**

**A NOTIFICATION**

Okay, I admit it; I fucked up. In my profile, (as pointed out to me by the chem prof) I state that I hate OOC stuff. Then, I go and do the exact thing that I complain about, and turn Hermione into a retard (as pointed out by chem prof _and_ Alorkin)

So, I have corrected this grave oversight. I think (and Steve agrees with me, cheers, Steve!) that this should now be much better.

With regards to some questions in reviews, I'll answer them here and now. Please note, however, that this 'chapter' will be deleted and reposted with the actual next chapter of the story.

mathiasgranger: Matt, you're harsh. You hope Hermione kills herself after being in pain and misery for 80 years? Remind me never to piss you off.

Alorkin: Dave, you're right. I wrote Hermione as a complete knobsock (kinda how JK wrote her in Deathly Hallows, no? Damn, I _loathe_ that book). I have hopefully corrected that now. Ginny's song and dance _is_ transparent. But, Molly desperately wants her brat... _delightful young lady_ to end up with the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. Let's not forget to delicious vault load of gold that he has. We'll be dealing with Ginny in the next chapter. (Tee-hee!) I'm working on it. Honestly.

harryginny01: The split-timelines will end in the next chapter. The past stuff's kinda important, 'cause I wanna point out why/how Harry's the way he is now.

Cateagle: You're right. Ron's an arse. I'm trying to be nice to him in some other stories, but he's simply too easy a character to rip to shreds. It's fun. This story was inspired by chess as opposed to Batman... but be patient. There's some stuff coming up that'll really disgust the Muggleborns.

Kittydemon18: No, Hermione wasn't dosed with a love potion. I, however, was dosed with stupidity. The doctors think they've managed to remove it, and are hopeful that the content of the story will improve from here on out. The Wizarding world should all line up at a slaughterhouse, and be exterminated for the good of the species. You're right about the marriage, but not everything is as it appears.

**Will Harry and Hermione ever be together?**

**Will Ginny get away with her evil ploy?**

**Will Molly end up with 'One Big, Happy Weasley Family'?**

**Will Winky ever learn how to cook Chinese food?**

_All these questions will be answered in 'The White Knight'! Stay tuned for Chapter Four: Lies and Actions!_


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